Nasty Hobbitsess
by Iorhael
Summary: The last, last, last chapter! What happened to Merry? And most of all, Frodo? And Sam, would he finally get to meet his beloved master? If you love them, be nice to me and review!
1. Default Chapter

Nasty Hobbitsess by Iorhael  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Pippin: Anything?  
  
Frodo: Nothing.  
  
Pippin: What is going on?  
  
Merry: That Black Rider was looking for something - or someone. Frodo?  
PJ's the Fellowship of the Ring  
Frodo didn't say anything. He looked past Merry doubtfully and  
  
fearfully. Merry and Pippin were indeed his cousins but he  
  
remembered what Gandalf had said to him, "Keep it secret, Frodo." He  
  
walked away.  
  
"Hey!" shouted Merry. Angered by his older cousin's deliberate  
  
disregard, Merry reached out and grabbed Frodo's shoulder -  
  
hard.  
  
Frodo cried out.  
  
"What's the matter with you, Merry?"  
  
"I asked you, Frodo." Merry might be younger but he had a bigger and  
  
more muscular body. Frodo stared at him now, anxiety filling his  
  
widening eyes.  
  
"I... I can't tell you," answered Frodo. "I can't tell you and  
  
Pippin. The fewer people know the better. Now, would you please let  
  
me and Sam go."  
  
Frodo was about to walk again when Pippin stepped into his path.  
  
"Pip," Frodo groaned. They reminded him of Lotho.  
  
"Can't walk away from me or Merry, oh no, you can't. We've come this  
  
far." Pippin smirked.  
  
From the corner of his eyes, Frodo saw Sam approach. His companion  
  
was growing suspicious. Frodo raised his hand to calm his gardener.  
  
"Mr. Frodo?"  
  
"It's all right, Sam," said Frodo. "My cousins wouldn't do anything  
  
so stupid as to hinder me from my own journey."  
  
"Where are you going, Frodo?" a slightly pushing tone was in Merry's  
  
voice. "Or you can't tell me that either?"  
  
Frodo was losing patieince. He was distressed enough by this ring  
  
business without his own cousins troubling him.  
  
"That's right! I can't tell you that either! stormed Frodo- Now,  
  
get out of my way, or -"  
  
Frodo didn't have a chance to finish his sentence as he was suddenly  
  
slamed backwards against a tree.  
  
"Mr. Frodo!"  
  
His head hit the tree hard. Frodo blinked as if he had seen stars.  
  
Frodo gasped. "Mer! What are--"  
  
Merry pulled and pushed Frodo against the tree repeatedly - each  
  
time harder than the last. If the first push merely surprised Frodo,  
  
the second time completely knocked the wind out of him. He felt  
  
like a rag doll and thought he might vomit.  
  
The next terrible moment Frodo saw his loyal servant running to help  
  
him. Frodo's relief turned to horror as he noticed the large chunk  
  
of wood that Pippin gripped in his hands.  
  
"Sam--" called Frodo feebly. Just as Sam was almost upon them,  
  
Pippin came behind him, menacing glint in his eyes.  
  
"Sam, look out!" Frodo yelled.  
  
It was too late. Frodo heard a loud, sickening thud as Sam fell like  
  
a fallen log.  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! SAAAAAMMMM!!!!!!!"  
  
Frodo ran to Sam's aid, only to be blocked by Merry. Unfriendly  
  
hands pushed the distraught hobbit back. Frodo protested  
  
heavily. "What are you doing?!! What do you want?!!"  
  
Merry glanced at him coldly. "You know what I want, Frodo. I just  
  
want to know what it is about." Frodo scowled at Merry in disbelief.  
  
"But why?? Why is it so important for you? It's none of your  
  
business!"  
  
Suddenly Frodo heard something whispering. //Come. Come with me.//  
  
Frodo jerked his head around in terror.  
  
"Did you hear that?" He whispered, almost to himself. When Frodo  
  
glanced back at Merry, he felt the hairs at the back of his neck  
  
stand on end. Merry's eyes glinted strangely. Had Merry been seduced  
  
by the ring?  
  
Frodo's mind turned back to Sam? Was he all right? Was he dead?  
  
"Let me see Sam!" Frodo insisted. He tried to push Merry aside.  
  
"No," answered Merry firmly. "Not until you answer my question."  
  
Merry summoned his younger cousin. "Pip!"  
  
Pippin produced a length of rope from his cloak. Frodo gulped. His  
  
cousins must have got mad!  
  
Frodo backed down.  
  
"I-I don't think that will be necessary," muttered Frodo.  
  
"It will if you still don't wish to cooperate," replied Merry  
  
evenly.  
  
"I really can't tell you!" Frodo yelled as Pippin wrenched Frodo's  
  
arms behind the tree and started to bind them. Frodo whimpered as  
  
the cord cut deeply into his wrists.  
  
"Done, cousin," said Pippin. Frodo glared at Pippin in terror as he  
  
reappeared from behind the tree. What Pippin had done to Sam flashed  
  
in his mind.  
  
"You killed Sam!" hissed Frodo. Pippin shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
"That's true when I last checked."  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
All of the sudden Frodo didn't seem to feel his fear and pain. All  
  
he knew was rage and deep sorrow. He struggled against his  
  
restraints violently. Frodo no longer cared about anything else,  
  
especially the two devilish cousins in front of him. He didn't  
  
care until a sudden agony in his stomach caught his breath. Merry  
  
had delivered a harsh blow to it.  
  
"Sam," he sobbed softly.  
  
"Quiet, my dearest cousin," hissed Merry.  
  
Frodo bowed his head and was trying to breathe normally when a hand  
  
grabbed his curls and yanked his head backwards.  
  
Frodo cried out in pain. He tried to avoid Merry's wicked eyes -  
  
but couldn't. Finally just gazed fearfully.  
  
"I saw you and Sam wandering out of the Shire, Merry barked. "Where  
  
to, Cousin?" Abruptly Merry let go of Frodo's hair while tugging it  
  
down. Frodo lifted his head slowly and stretched it a little. He  
  
felt sore all over his neck. He willed himself not to say anything  
  
to Merry and Pippin, convinced that the ring was behind his cousins'  
  
ill manner.  
  
His silence enraged Merry and he backhanded Frodo very hard, making  
  
the tied form gasped. Merry continued to slap Frodo until blood  
  
streamed from his nose and mouth. Frodo breathed heavily. He didn't  
  
even have a chance to scream this time. Frodo flinched as Merry  
  
walked to his side. He was barely aware of what was happening  
  
around him. His head throbbed severely.  
  
Merry whispered at his ear, "Or do you prefer for the black rider to  
  
come and get you, Frodo?"  
  
Frodo struggled weakly against his bonds.  
  
"Please - " he said faintly. Then he noticed something flashing was  
  
in Pip's hand. Was it a knife?  
  
"Are you - are you going to kill me, too?"  
  
Merry sneered. "Oh, not that easy, Beloved." He ran his fingers down  
  
Frodo's bloodstained cheek. "You still owe me something."  
  
Pippin disappeared to the back of the tree. If Frodo had wondered  
  
what would happen next, he didn't have to wait long. The next thing  
  
he felt was a sharp pain slicing along his right palm. Frodo let out  
  
a shuddering cry that lasted for seconds. When he finally calmed  
  
down, tears flowed freely down his cheek. He felt himself ready to  
  
lose consciousness at any moment. Frodo was in deep, pure agony.  
  
Unable to bear the pain it any longer, Frodo finally spoke.  
  
"I --- Sam and I were going to Bree," muttered Frodo in a barely  
  
audible voice. "But the business is our own."  
  
Merry nodded. "That will be enough for now. We're going to Bree,  
  
then. I'm sure we'll find out there about the business of  
  
yours. "Pip!" He motioned his best pal to release Frodo.  
  
Frodo tumbled to the ground the moment the rope that restrained him  
  
went loose. He shut his eyes wearily. But even this "rest" was not  
  
allowed. Frodo felt two pairs of hands grab his arms and drag him  
  
away. He was shoved onto something soft. Frodo realized then that  
  
it was Sam, or rather, Sam's body. He opened his eyes and snatched  
  
his arms away from Merry and Pippin to hug Sam. He couldn't hold  
  
back his tears. How could they be so heartless? Frodo felt the world  
  
had turned upside-down. Frodo's arms were wrenched back again.  
  
"No - let me go - "  
  
"You don't suppose that we're going to leave you here, do you,  
  
Frodo?" sneered Merry. "But Sam, well, probably, he has to wait  
  
here." Merry aid nothing more as he fastened rope around Frodo's  
  
wrists. "We're taking the Buckleberry ferry." Merry and Pippin  
  
forced Frodo up. "But we don't want any trouble from you, so,  
  
forgive us, cousin, we need to do this to you."  
  
It sounded like a riddle to Frodo and he turned around to see what  
  
his cousin really meant. But at that instant a damp cloth was  
  
clamped over Frodo's mouth and nose. Besides the strong smell of  
  
liquor Frodo knew was often consumed by his cousin, its contact with  
  
his split corner of his lips made him gasp. Worse yet were the  
  
overpowering fumes that made him feel light immediately. Frodo tried  
  
to resist the liquor's effect upon his body but finally lost. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
//Frodo was six again and felt very warm. He felt being rocking back  
  
and forth. Oh, he was in his mummy's arms. He closed his eyes  
  
peacefully. But suddenly he felt a chilly breeze blowing against  
  
his face. Why?? Why?! He protested silently and glanced up at his  
  
mother - // But she was not his mother! In fact, it was not a she at all! From  
  
their faces Frodo recognized Merry and Pippin. He hadn't been fully  
  
aware of what was happening and he was even more confused to see the  
  
dark sky above and the sound of water splashes every now and then.  
  
In the midst of his confusion, he tried to sit down from his lying-  
  
on-his- side position, but he found it impossible. It was then Frodo  
  
remembered that his hands were tied behind his back. Memories came rushing back to his brain. He remembered how Pippin  
  
had hit Sam so hard that he had instantly killed Frodo's loyal  
  
gardener. Frodo cringed as he recalled Merry's mindless cruelty  
  
towards him). The ring, yes. It had to be because of that. Oh, how Frodo wished he could go back to his unconscious state where  
  
there was his mother's warm embrace and love. He shut his eyes  
  
tightly, trying to restrain the tears that threatened to spill.   
  
Frodo drew his breath as silently as possible so Merry wouldn't be  
  
aware that he had woken. The ferry floated along the Brandywine River for a couple more  
  
minutes before it finally drew to a stop. Frodo still didn't move.   
  
Pippin roughly grabbed Frodo's cloak to force the groggy hobbit to  
  
his feet. Frodo raised with great difficulty and finally succeeded  
  
after Merry, growing impatient, tugged him up too. "We are going to get into Bree," said Merry. "But you are not  
  
supposed to say anything. I will. If you still try to speak," he  
  
threatened, "remember that Pippin's dagger is at your back." Pippin emphasized this last threat with a short, sharp "warning"  
  
poke of the dagger into the small of Frodo's back. Frodo gasped in  
  
shock, then fell silent. It was too much for Frodo. Frodo could not believe any of this was  
  
happening. Not in his wildest dreams could he believe that he could  
  
come to such misery by his own cousins' hands! He stared at Merry,  
  
hard and stubbornly. Still, Frodo was a pitiful sight. His pallid  
  
face darkened with black and blue bruises did not make for an  
  
intimidating impression. "Come on!" Merry ordered as he took Frodo's arm roughly and Pippin  
  
nudged him from the back. Frodo stumbled forward. In front of the gate, Merry talked to the guard through a small  
  
square hole. Frodo couldn't do anything to attract the guard's  
  
attention with the tip of Pippin's dagger at his back. Besides, he  
  
realized that his cousins had hidden Frodo's bound hands behind his  
  
cloak so he just appeared to be clasping his hands behind his back. When the guard finally opened the gate, Frodo was again pushed and  
  
pulled by his two cousins. He tried in vain to attract the door  
  
warden's attention by blinking his eyes. But the guard didn't seem  
  
to notice, much to Frodo's dismay. Merry, however, did notice. He  
  
tugged at Frodo almost violently. "Don't try to do something you will regret, cousin," he hissed. "I won't - " But finally Frodo gave up. After a couple of minutes stumbling along the muddy road, Frodo saw  
  
the sign of Prancing Pony Inn, where he was supposed to meet  
  
Gandalf. He was torn between two options, telling Merry about the  
  
inn, or not telling him. If he told Merry, there was a possibility  
  
that he would meet Gandalf and be rescued. But it was still an  
  
unpredictable situation fraught with risk. What if Merry found out  
  
about the ring and ran away with it? This was definitely something  
  
that Frodo didn't want to happen. Frodo decided to try his luck. He called Merry softly.  
  
"Uh...Merry-?" "What?!" "I'm supposed to meet Gandalf there, in the Prancing Pony," Frodo  
  
pronounced, haltingly. Merry stopped walking and seemed to muse for  
  
a while. "Gandalf, eh?" he said a moment later. "Do you think I'm that stupid  
  
to follow you inside to 'meet' Gandalf?!" he punctuated the word  
  
meet as if he were mocking Frodo. Gandalf-- whom you can ask for  
  
help!" Frodo panicked. He shook his head. "No! I didn't mean that. It was  
  
just the agreement. I am to meet him there. Otherwise, he might  
  
think that I'm in trouble." Which he really was. Pippin, who in the meantime was alert, tugged Merry's sleeve. "We'd  
  
better not get in. All those big people, and we are alone. It's  
  
too risky." That was exactly Merry's fear. But he finally made a decision. "We go in, but just briefly. We will ask for Gandalf but when the  
  
wizard shows up, you, Pippin, quickly bring Frodo out of there. All  
  
right?" instructed Merry. Pippin nodded. Frodo sighed. Merry looked  
  
at Frodo suspiciously but didn't say anything. Merry pushed the big door open and stepped in with Frodo still in  
  
his clutch. Pippin followed. They approached the man behind the  
  
counter, Butterbur. The counter was taller than they were so Merry  
  
had to hold his head high enough to be able to see Butterbur. He  
  
inquired about Gandalf. But after recollecting for a moment,  
  
Butterbur answered that he hadn't seen the wizard for quite a long  
  
time. Frodo seemed to be taken aback. All his hopes vanished. What could  
  
he do now? But what Frodo and his cousins did not observe were the pair of eyes  
  
taking in all of their behavior. Sitting in a dark corner with his  
  
pipe, Strider, a ranger requested by Gandalf to meet a particular  
  
hobbit, looked at them with great interest. "He has dark curly hair and much fairer than most." That was what  
  
Gandalf told him. He also noticed now the elvish air in him. But  
  
when Strider looked more closely, he gasped. What was that on the  
  
face? Bruises? How on earth could he get bruises? Had he fallen  
  
down? "or what? is modern Strider stood up to approach the little  
  
ones. He barely caught the argument among them. "We can't stay here!" insisted Merry. "Let's go out and find another  
  
inn. I'm sure there are some out there built especially for hobbits." Frodo refused to move. He didn't know why but his gut told him to  
  
stay. He wrenched himself free from Merry's grip and dashed across  
  
the floor. Strider stood in amazement. He was becoming more  
  
suspicious with every passing moment. Meanwhile, Pippin didn't just stand still. He leaped after Frodo and  
  
seized the back of his cloak. Frodo jerked and toppled back. The  
  
direction was unfortunate, as he fell with full force on his own  
  
bound hands. Frodo felt like all the bones of his wrists and hands  
  
were cracked. He shrieked hopelessly. His breaths were ragged. The  
  
pain was so searing that it made Frodo want to vomit. Strider moved quickly. Something was very wrong here. The little  
  
hobbit was definitely in distress. But he was not quick enough. The two other hobbits quickly picked  
  
him up - and none too gently. Seeming to disregard the fallen  
  
Hobbit's obvious pain, the two grabbed him and dragged him to the  
  
door. "Don't say anything, dear cousin," whispered Merry into Frodo's  
  
ear. "Or you will be in deadly peril." TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
Strider looked as if he were freed from a spell when he saw the  
  
hobbits disappear through the door. He cursed silently. He had been  
  
too dumbstruck to help the abused hobbit, only watching the situation  
  
unfold with amazement. Frodo, yes, he knew the name, - had to be in  
  
a big trouble. And he hadn't done a thing to help him.  
  
As if trying to make amends, he stormed to the door and pulled it  
  
open. To his amazement, he saw nothing. He sighed desperately. How  
  
could that be? Those little hobbits had just been away for a couple  
  
of minutes. They didn't seem to be creatures of high speed either,  
  
yet they disappeared so quickly. Strider searched about the darkened  
  
street just to assure himself. But he still didn't see anything.  
  
Strider did not know that-although hobbits were not the fastest  
  
beings, they were witty and what's more, they were small! It was very  
  
easy for them to hide themselves beneath some nearby bushes.  
  
That was exactly what Merry and Pippin were doing. When they went out  
  
of the inn, they noted the overgrown shrubs along its side. They  
  
looked as if they had not been trimmed for years. Merry and Pippin,  
  
dragging poor Frodo, dove behind the shrubs and out of sight. Merry  
  
just smirked when he saw Strider pace back and forth right in front  
  
of them with a puzzled look. Both Merry and Pippin tried not to let  
  
out a single sound.  
  
Frodo, of course, had no wish to hide. But with his hurt arm and  
  
bound and burning wrists, he just couldn't fight anymore. The  
  
previous accident had left his wrists swollen and his shoulder  
  
dislocated.  
  
Frodo felt nauseous. He would surely double over if not for the tight  
  
grips of his cousins. He barely noticed his surroundings when they  
  
pushed him behind the bush. He saw Strider, too. But a hand blocked  
  
his mouth and stifled the sound even before he had a chance to yell  
  
out.  
  
"Nurgh - " Frodo mumbled incoherently, and he felt two strong hands  
  
push his shoulders so he couldn't move at all.  
  
They lingered there for what seemed like an eternity until Strider  
  
finally gave up and went back to the inn. Frodo felt his body scream  
  
due to his injuries. The rope bit more deeply into his swollen  
  
wrists. He had no idea how long he could stand the pain.  
  
When the hand was finally lifted up off his mouth, he took a deep  
  
breath and heaved miserably. His stomach clenched painfully as he  
  
hadn't eaten anything for two days.  
  
Merry glared at Frodo, disgusted. He yanked Frodo up when the fit was  
  
over. Frodo heard his dislocated arm pop and his breath was becoming  
  
heavy again. Frodo panted. He was sweating all over.  
  
"We're going to find an inn but not the one nearby. It should be a  
  
little bit hidden so that the big man won't find us," said Merry.  
  
"I can't," replied Frodo hesitantly. He didn't want to annoy Merry so  
  
he would torture him again but he was feeling very weak. He wasn't  
  
sure if he could take another step.  
  
"It wouldn't have been this difficult, Frodo, if you hadn't been too  
  
stubborn and tried to run away just now. You deserve what you get,"  
  
snapped Merry. He didn't want to linger any longer. Merry and Pippin  
  
started to walk with Frodo squeezed in between them.  
  
They eventually found a lodging that was located on a cramped alley.  
  
Its name, the Black Stallion, didn't represent the place at all. The  
  
Prancing Pony would feel like a palace compared to this terrifyingly  
  
shabby inn. Frodo looked at it in dismay. Neither Gandalf or the big  
  
man would ever find him here.  
  
After getting them a small room, Merry, along with Pippin, half  
  
carried, half dragged Frodo through the door. Frodo practically hung  
  
in the hands of his two cousins-turned-captors. Frodo was hurled onto  
  
a filthy and dank rug. The air was knocked out of him as he landed  
  
hard on his stomach. Frodo tried to stuggle to his knees, but it was  
  
futile with his hands drawn behind his back.  
  
Pippin looked at him briefly and shrugged. He then walked toward the  
  
basin on a small table in the corner of the room. Frodo was lying,  
  
crumpled, on his side now, although it hurt him greatly to be leaning  
  
on top of the twisted shoulder. He felt tears rolling down his  
  
cheeks. Pleadingly, he gaped at Merry.  
  
"Can you untie me, please? I won't try to run away again."  
  
It was late at night and Merry was sure he and Pippin would be able  
  
to handle Frodo if he tried anything. Merry signalled Pippin to  
  
release Frodo.   
  
Having been tied for a long time made Frodo feel stiff. He had  
  
expected the pain to lessen when he was allowed to move his arms  
  
forward - but it did not. His one arm was dislocated. And Frodo  
  
cringed when he saw how bad his wrists looked.  
  
Merry noticed that Frodo was hardly able to move the sprained arm. He  
  
motioned to Pippin.  
  
"Pull that arm forward," ordered Merry to his younger cousin. "That  
  
will return the arm to its place."  
  
Pippin grabbed Frodo's arm and wrenched it back into its socket with  
  
a sickening pop. It indeed helped to cure the immediate pain -but  
  
the process sent a sliver of pure agony through Frodo's entire side.  
  
Frodo couldn't hold back his tears. Exhausted by the pain, by the  
  
tears, in fact - by the entire horrid ordeal he'd endured the whole  
  
day, Frodo finally gave himself up to unconsciousness. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 (Iorhael is still the author)  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
"Hey, what's this?" Merry showed the golden trinket to Pippin.  
  
Pippin squinted at it.  
  
"That's Bilbo's ring!" Pippin exclaimed. "What is it doing in  
  
Frodo's pocket?"  
  
Merry shrugged. "Frodo stole it?" he murmured.  
  
Not wanting to have anything to do with the ring anymore, Merry put  
  
it back in the waistcoat pocket and continued the search over  
  
Frodo's clothes. But he couldn't find anything else of value  
  
although he had felt all the hems and rummaged through all the  
  
pockets.  
  
He glanced over Frodo who was still curled up on the rug  
  
unconscious. Both he and Pippin had stripped Frodo until he wore  
  
only his breeches. Frodo's shirt, waistcoat, coat, and cloak were  
  
piled up on one of the beds, and Merry had found the ring inside one  
  
of the pockets. Fortunately, Merry didn't know that it was the One  
  
Ring.  
  
All of sudden there was a soft mumbling sound. It seemed that Frodo  
  
was beginning to regain consciousness. His mumble soon became a loud  
  
noise as his teeth chattered. Frodo shivered terribly against the  
  
cold night. A soft breeze brushed his naked form. But he hadn't been  
  
able to register why he was so cold.  
  
His eyes fluttered open; he noted the hazy forms of Merry and Pippin  
  
rifling through his clothes. It took Frodo a few moments to piece  
  
everything together. Frodo figured out why he was so cold. He had  
  
been undressed.   
  
Frodo sat up. He still felt sore in his arms and hands.  
  
"What are you doing?" His voice was hoarse. But suddenly he  
  
remembered something. The ring! Without realizing it, his hand flew  
  
to his chest as if he was trying to reach for his pocket where he  
  
kept it. When he found only bare skin, he was enraged.  
  
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Frodo screeched. Not realizing where he got  
  
the energy from, Frodo jumped and shoved Merry away from his clothes.  
  
"GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK TO ME!!" he yelled. Merry reeled when  
  
Frodo's fist met his left jaw.  
  
Pippin was stunned. As far as he knew, Frodo was too weak to do such  
  
a thing. Astonishment leaving him, Merry started to understand what  
  
was going on. He got up.  
  
"So, this is all about. That ring, is it?" asked Merry,  
  
frighteningly calm.  
  
Frodo stared at him challengingly. He growled, very nearly feral.  
  
"Where is it? You have it, don't you!"  
  
"Oh, yes, I have it," lied Merry and he snatched Frodo's waistcoat  
  
from the bed before the other hobbit could do anything.  
  
Merry groped into the left pocket and took the ring out. Frodo  
  
snarled, trying to grasp it. But Merry was faster. He clutched it  
  
high above his head, beyond the reach of Frodo's grasping hands.  
  
Then, with his right hand, he backhanded Frodo cruelly, sending him  
  
reeling backwards onto the floor. Frodo looked up at Merry  
  
fearfully. The anger had vanished from his eyes.  
  
Merry sneered. "That's what you get when you are naughty, Frodo."  
  
Then with a darker tone he added, "Don't you ever! EVER! Do that  
  
again!"  
  
Merry approached Frodo glowing with rage. Without warning, Merry  
  
kicked him hard in the stomach.  
  
Surprised by the action and the sharp pain in his belly, Frodo  
  
choked. But Merry wasn't satisfied yet. He kicked Frodo again, and  
  
again, and again, until Frodo was sure not one rib of him was left  
  
undamaged. He gasped and panted and tried to curl up despite wanting  
  
to retch. Finally, Frodo raised his hand to signal his defeat.  
  
"No more, no more," he said in between his panting breaths. "Merry,  
  
please ---"  
  
"What is it about the ring?" Merry asked the hobbit crumpled beneath  
  
him.  
  
Merry didn't care about how bad Frodo's situation was. "Did you take  
  
it by force from Bilbo?"  
  
Frodo shut his eyes wearily.  
  
Merry moved on. "That's not impossible, is it, judging from how you  
  
reacted just now. You attacked me, Frodo, although you didn't know  
  
if I really had that ring or not. Were you worried he wouldn't give  
  
you that one treasure of his? What do you plan to do with it?"  
  
Frodo knew Merry was talking about Bilbo but he was shocked to hear  
  
the accusation. Though he couldn't deny that he did really attack  
  
Merry. Whatever came over him? Frodo himself couldn't explain.  
  
Frodo shuddered, both because of the chilly air and the effect of  
  
Merry's words.  
  
"I didn't steal it from Bilbo," he said weakly. "Bilbo gave it to me  
  
together with the hole and the things in it. It was horrid of you to  
  
say that about me. I grieved so much about his leaving, Merry. If I  
  
could choose, I'd rather have him than his treasure. I don't care a  
  
bit about the ring." He sat up, feeling the pain in the stomach had  
  
dulled a little.  
  
"You are lying," hissed Merry. "You took everything from Bilbo and  
  
after he left, you were terrified because you thought someone was  
  
going to find out about your wrongdoings. Then you left too. You  
  
took Sam with you as a cover up so that nobody would be suspicious."  
  
Merry's mentioning of Sam made Frodo grieve even more.  
  
"Or did Sam know about that, too? He was your accomplice, huh,  
  
Frodo?"  
  
"Don't you dare say bad things about Sam, you murderer!"  
  
Frodo stood up, or rather, tried to stand up. But before he realized  
  
it, a pair of arms restrained him. Weakened by the fact that he had  
  
not eaten for days, Frodo couldn't loose himself from Pippin's grip.  
  
Then Merry made everything infinately worse. He tore a sheet off one  
  
of the beds and threw it over Frodo's head and body. Frodo cried  
  
out in shock, as the cousins wound a rope tightly about his upper  
  
body. Though Frodo thrashed and struggled to break free, the hated  
  
sheet was now fastened securely around the unhappy hobbit.  
  
Frodo was wrapped like a bundle or gift. He couldn't see anything  
  
and when he tried to rise he was snatched back. Merry and Pippin had  
  
tied Frodo, sheet and all, to the leg of the bed. He wouldn't be  
  
going anywhere.   
  
"There," said Merry, satisfied. "Now you can't go anywhere, thief,"  
  
he spat. "We're going to the law to inform them about you. Oh yes, I  
  
guess that would be the best thing to do."  
  
"No!!" From under the sheet, Frodo's shout was muffled down to a   
  
mere grumble. Merry was nearly amused.  
  
"We're going now, Frodo," exclaimed Merry nonchalantly as the  
  
cousins left the still struggling form.  
  
Once outside, Pippin felt his curiousity burst. He had kept silent  
  
but now he couldn't stand not to ask.  
  
"Did Frodo really do that, Cousin, stealing and all, hurting Bilbo?"  
  
Merry turned to him, an ugly grin on his face. "My, my, Pippin. You  
  
really are naïve, aren't you? Even if he really did that, oh, no.  
  
Of  
  
course not. Frodo is too soft, Pippin. He wouldn't ever be able to  
  
do such things."  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Dawn came, but Merry and Pippin hardly noticed it. They had been having a great time, finishing several pints of beer, singing, and dancing at the inn's pub. Lucky for them they had met a number of local hobbits from which they found out about the Breeans' habits and some information of who was who in the town. Thanks to the their new friends, Merry and Pippin got to know some of the big folks who were willing to do anything for them at a suitable price.  
  
In the meantime, Strider had barely been able to close his eyes. He lay restlessly in his bed, turning to the left and to the right, trying in vain to get some rest, if possible, sleep.  
  
But he knew it was impossible. The memory of those big sapphire eyes glancing around frantically was hard to erase. The image of Frodo trying to break free and running in panic only to be jerked back by one of his captors kept coming back to Stider's mind. Frodo's heart-wrenching wail filled his ears and head again.  
  
Aragorn's eyes jerked open violently. No, there was no way he could sleep at all if he kept recollecting those scenes over and over. How he wished he could turn back the time and save Frodo.  
  
He wouldn't have known about the little hobbit had it not been for Gandalf. It was supposed to be the wizard himself to meet Frodo here at the Prancing Pony. But Stider sensed that something had happened to Gandalf -Or was about to happen. After all, Gandalf had decided to ask Strider for a favor, just in case.  
  
The Grey Wizard informed him all about Frodo. He told Strider first about his hobbit friend Bilbo, and expained that Frodo was Bilbo's cousin. Gandalf described him so accurately Strider could almost picture Frodo in his mind. That was why he recognized the little one instantly that night. Gandalf also told Strider that he had known Frodo ever since the hobbit was just a little boy. That explained why Frodo was so very dear to him.  
  
Strider was notified about the possible dangers Frodo might have to face. Although Gandalf didn't tell him exactly what business Frodo had and the reason why he had to leave the Shire, the wizard did warn him about some unwanted folks that might hinder the journey. That left Strider with only one thing to focus upon --to bring Frodo alive, safe and sound, to Rivendell.  
  
Despite the warning, however, the ranger was surprised to find Frodo in danger so soon, and in the hands of his fellow hobbits! Were the other two also from the Shire, or were they just from around here?  
  
Feeling more and more uneasy Strider finally decided to get out of his room and the inn to start searching the hobbit. He was unsure about which way to take but he knew he had to begin from the areas occupied mostly by hobbits. Through his years as a ranger, he had become acquinted with some locals, respected or less respected, from whom he would get information. It was impossible to leave no trace in front of nosy inhabitants of Bree.  
  
***  
  
Tired of struggling, the bundled Frodo was finally overcome by sleep. He couldn't lie down; The the length of rope tying him up to the bed was too short.  
  
When morning came and the bright sunlight shone through the dilapidated curtains, Frodo awoke from his disturbed slumber. He felt the warmth of the sun through the bed sheet covering him. Again he renewed his effort to loosen the bind. But nothing happened. He gasped out loud. Even breathing was rather difficult now.  
  
Despairing, he started to lose himself to oblivion. He knew he wasn't going to die of suffocation but his will to live seemed to evaporate now that the ring wasn't with him anymore. Realizing it or not, he started to feel that the ring had overtaken his life. Nothing else mattered.  
  
But the thought of the ring reminded him of Merry's remark. Was it true that he made Bilbo give it to him by force? He couldn't tell. His declining condition hampered him to tell the reality from the illusion.  
  
Frodo bowed his head. Tears were threatening to fall down. Silence. Everything was silent, too silent. Frodo wondered how he could be here in the first place. Last night's event in which Merry and Pippin half-dragged him inside this room was just a blur for him. And then recalling how Merry had rifled through his clothes felt like a nightmare now.  
  
But then realization dawned on him. His mind was suddenly clear again. He remembered how he had almost rejected the ring and offered it to Gandalf. So Merry must have lied to him telling that he was a thief. He was no thief!  
  
He looked down and noticed how he couldn't see his own hands because he was tied around his upper arms. With his hands then he tried to reach the ends of the sheet. Maybe if he could reach them, he would be able to pull the sheet.  
  
It felt like hours trying to do what he planned. His hands were starting to go stiff when he was finally able to grasp the hems. He almost cheered loudly. Now what he had to do was to pull them as hard as he could to free him of the bed sheet. Frodo knew it wouldn't be easy because he was tied so tightly.  
  
"One, two, three!" He counted to himself and jerked the sheet hard. The first time nothing seemed to happen except that his head was snapped down painfully. He grimaced.  
  
But he wouldn't give up. It had better be pained but free than kept here forever. Once, twice, and three times he pulled and he was finally successful in freeing his head from the material. The task done, what he would do next was put it entirely off his body.  
  
Frodo looked around the room where he was being held. What attracted him most were the windows. There were two windows, both with miserable condition. He was sure he would be able to get out of one of them later.  
  
"What is it?" He was scrutinizing now the rope around his body and another length connected to the bed. It looked like a thin but strong piece of cord. He stooped and started to chew it. After a moment it was slack enough and with all his strength Frodo pulled himself away from the bed. He fell on his back quite heavily that he felt air rushed out of his lungs. He just hoped the bruises would not be as bad later as the ones that already covered his chest and stomach.  
  
Before he headed for the window he grabbed his cloak. It was still freezing outside and Frodo didn't want to catch a cold. He couldn't put on his shirt or coat because he was still bound. The cloak could be wrapped around him to hide his bare and bound top.   
  
Frodo was right about the windows. The wood was half-eaten by termites so it wasn't difficult at all to break by ramming against it with his shoulder. Frodo rolled his body over the window frame and landed* on a muddy street. He felt sorry that his once-lovely green cloak was now caked with grime.  
  
The road was empty. It seemed that Frodo had gone to the rear side of the town because where he was was just a small alley not a big main road. But, hey, his mind screamed. Wasn't it even better? Nobody would spot him in his pathetic state.  
  
He jumped up, wavering a little, and finally able to steady himself. For the first time in several days a smile flickered on his face.  
  
Frodo knew where he had to go, to the Prancing Pony. What he wasn't able to register was the way to get there. He turned to the left and right, trying to decide which way to take. Finally he took the left after assuming that this place was probably hidden farther from the gate than the Prancing Pony.  
  
He was very careful in taking his steps, stopping every time he heard sounds of people talking. After several minutes walking he met a crossroad. Skeptically Frodo took the right turn when suddenly he saw several rough- looking" men walking towards him. Alarmed, he turned back. But it was too late. The men had seen him and for reasons Frodo could only guess, started chasing after him. Frodo quickened his steps laboriously. Because of the strap that dangled from his back, he risked tripping if he tried to run. He raggedly took his breath. He was almost hysterical now.  
  
Suddenly from the corner of the street came two familiar faces, Merry and Pippin. Frodo frowned in horror. They were absolutely the last people Frodo wanted to see although he was sure he didn't want to be in those ruffians' hands either. Maybe he could dash past his cousins if he ran fast enough.  
  
Merry and Pippin now recognized Frodo's form that dashed in their direction. The cousins were awestruck that Frodo had managed to run away. More surprising was the fact that Frodo was chased by a group of men. The hobbits stopped walking. It wasn't that they didn't want to capture Frodo - but they were doubtful about the men. News had been spreading in the Shire about how dangerous some big folks were, and they didn't want to put the rumours to the test.  
  
So they just waited until Frodo drew near. They were getting ready to block his way.  
  
Frodo felt * desperate. It was apparent that his cousins wouldn't try to chase him *. Instead, they were trying to catch him (as he approached. He had nowhere to run. Meanwhile, the ruffians were gaining. All of the sudden a hard breeze blew and swept away Frodo's cloak. He shivered and swayed - bare-chested and wrapped in ropes. He heard some of those men gasp. "Look! He's bound, shouted one of the men!"  
  
"So what?!" thought Frodo angrily. "Are you going to help me then?"  
  
Merry and Pippin also noticed. They grinned to each other, knowing that Frodo wouldn't manages to move fast in that condition. He would also not be able to defend himself.  
  
Frodo got nearer and nearer to Merry and Pippin. When they approached he tried to duck away but to no avail. Merry seized the rope on his back. Frodo yelped when Merry's nails grazed his skin. Pippin came to help his pal by taking one of Frodo's arms.  
  
"Help! Help!" cried Frodo weakly. But to whom he asked for help, Frodo wasn't sure. Finally he could only succumb to Merry and Pippin's clutches yet again. He couldn't blink back his tears.  
TBC 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
Both the hobbits were about to take Frodo back to the inn when one of the men called out.  
  
"Hey! Wait a second! What's going on here? Is he in trouble?" He nodded to Frodo.  
  
"Excuse me, gentlemen," said Merry, still heading toward the inn. "But that's none of your business."  
  
"I said, wait a second!" The man became harsher. "Who is he? What's it with 'em?"  
  
"He is our cou---" Pippin had no chance to finish as a kick was blown hard to his shin.  
  
"We don't really know who he is," Merry continued for him. "He's mad, can you see? His family in the Shire asked us to take care of him. But it is, my! Very, very difficult!"  
  
Frodo looked at him with widened eyes. "That's not ---" But Merry elbowed him so hard he couldn't complete the sentence. He bent down in agony, panting.  
  
"So, dear friends, can we go now?" asked Merry. "I guess it's time for him to eat." With that Merry grabbed Frodo and turned around, leaving the questioning looks on the men's faces.  
  
In the room, he tossed Frodo to the floor.  
  
"It's outrageous, Frodo. I can't seem to be able to control you anymore. We have to do something about it." Frodo looked up at him apprehensively.  
  
"Why?" asked him in a hoarse voice. "You got the ring. Leave me alone now!"  
  
Merry leered. "Do you think it's that easy, Frodo? If I let you go, you'll run directly to that man in the Prancing Pony or even go back to the Shire where you can talk to everyone about what happened. And what will come next? They will all hunt Pippin and me!" He walked toward him, pushing Frodo to back away.  
  
"I --- I will not do that. I'll just say that you are traveling somewhere. Please, Merry, I am useless for you. I'm just a burden."  
  
Something flashed through Merry's mind but then he shrugged it off. "You! Cannot tell me what to do or not do. Now shut up! Pippin."  
  
Pippin handed him a cup of something that looked like tea. "I need you to drink this," Merry said while drawing the cup to Frodo. Alarmed, Frodo moved back a little further.  
  
"What's that?!" Nobody had given him anything to eat so far and suddenly they offered him tea?  
  
"It's nothing," Pippin approached him threateningly. And he had something in his hand, too. Frodo's eyes moved back and forth from Merry to Pippin. What were they going to do this time?  
  
"You want us to do this the hard way, Frodo? Fine!"  
  
Suddenly they all both were right in front of his face, Merry holding the cup and pressing it to his tightly shut lips and Pippin --- he nudging the tip of his dagger on his throat. Frodo lifted his head involuntarily.  
  
"Drink, or I'll slice your throat, beloved!" Frodo could do nothing but obey. He gulped down several times and grimaced. It tasted a little bitter.  
  
Just a short while later his eyes felt heavy. He looked up, his two cousins a blur to him. "You are drugging me?" Frodo whimpered. What a rhetorical question. He felt dizzier and dizzier and the world seemed to spin around him. He was forced to close his eyes. At last he fell to his side and the darkness engulfed him completely.  
  
***  
  
Sounds of clicking glasses mixed with laughter and dirty words could help disguise their secret conversation. It was the men that chased Frodo and another three men who looked just as terrible.  
  
"Are you sure he said the Shire?"  
  
"Positive!"  
  
"Which one from there?"  
  
"The beautiful one. The one with big eyes and dark curly hair. He looks terrible, though. I don't know what had happened to him."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Yeah, he had bruises all over his face and body. He was bound too."  
  
The other one snapped. "That's not our business. Who knows, that even made it easier for us. He won't give us a hard time later. Tell us, where can we find him?"  
  
The ruffian he talked to just shrugged. "That's not a part of our deal, is it? You just asked us to find any information about any halflings from the Shire. You didn't mention anything about helping you find them."  
  
The man growled and banged at the table. "Do you want the same fate come upon you?!" The other one raised his hands, giving in.  
  
"All right, all right. But there's not much to say anymore anyway. He was with two other halflings who then took him away; I don't know where to!"  
  
The man waved his hand, motioning him to leave. "It's easy. We'll find them." He squinted when the group still didn't move. "Well, what are you waiting for??"  
  
"Uh, the money?"  
  
"No money until the halfling is in our hands. Period." They just nodded and left, too terrified to suggest any other things.  
  
When they were alone, the three men looked at each other. "Finally, we have something to give Sharkey."  
  
"Right. After all these years."  
  
"But we need to be careful. I heard rangers are looking for him, too."  
  
"Why does everyone want him?"  
  
"Who knows? We're just told to bring him to Isengard, and to Isengard we will take him."  
  
"Fine, fine."  
  
***  
  
Strider heard a noise under the window of his bedroom. He opened it silently and reached down. Apparently it was a dwarf or a hobbit to tell from the size. He pulled the form up with all his might.  
  
"Ahh!" The being cried out. "Beggin' your pardon, Sir, but---"  
  
"You! You must be one of them. What are you doing outside my room?" Strider snapped, shaking him violently.  
  
Then he looked more closely. Hmm, maybe not. This one was sturdier and he looked dirty and pale and frightened.  
  
"I'm looking for my master, if you see my meaning."  
  
Strider released him. "I don't. Who is your master? Who are you, and what happened to you?"  
  
Sam observed the man before him, terrified. "Please sir, don't do anything to me. I don't have anything. They hit me sir, hit me so hard I slept for days. And they took my master."  
  
The ranger knew very few hobbits traveled this far. And those came to Bree recently were --- He asked the question carefully.  
  
"Does your master --- happen to be Frodo?"  
  
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam gasped. "Indeed sir! But, how do you know?" Sam squinted at him suspiciously. "Do you have him in your keeping?"  
  
Strider sighed. "Unfortunately no. I saw him with another two hobbits. And he didn't look very well. By the way, do you know them?"  
  
"Oh, no." Sam covered his face with his hands, starting sobbing. "I know them sir. I mean I know who they are but I don't think I know them anymore from what they did to Mr. Frodo. I was to help him, sir, but, but ---" His sobbing was harder.  
  
Strider grasped Sam's shoulders and drew him to a chair. "Sit down first. Then tell me everything you know. We must save your master. I hope it's not too late."  
  
***  
  
Frodo awoke and opened his eyes. But to his wonder, he couldn't see anything. Everything was pitch black. He felt his eyes, checking if he was blindfolded. He wasn't. Then he realized that he wasn't bound anymore. But why couldn't he see? Panic started to grow in him.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	8. Chapter 8

Natta: . but is it good? Will you keep reading it?  
  
aelgifu: You tell me! I'm obsessed myself. Well, I just can say, I'll try my best to keep it going. Thanks for your support!  
  
CleopatraVII: Hey, thanks for your information about the setting. I'm new here so I really don't know much about how ff.net works. Please keep reading and review.  
  
Andysprincess: Thanks for the constant reviews!  
  
Warning: AU, dark, violence  
  
Chapter 8  
  
He blinked several times but still didn't see a thing. Had he gone blind?  
  
Frodo tried to calm himself, drawing breaths in and out. Everything would be fine, he reassured himself. What he needed to do was just get used to the situation.  
  
He was right. After a moment adjusting himself to the darkness, he started to recognize forms around him.  
  
He got to his feet. Luckily his cousins had clothed him again with his shirt and coat. He was rather sad about his cloak that had been blown by the wind. He hoped it wouldn't be too cold here without the cloak.  
  
Examining the place where he was locked in while groping on the walls, he could tell that the room had to be a cellar since it had no windows. He found only a door that didn't even have a keyhole or a door handle! Feeling desperate and exhausted, he rested his back against the door and slid down to the floor.  
  
Frodo buried his head in his two hands, fighting hard not to sob. No, he couldn't afford to go weak right now. He had to be tough and strong. A way out, yes, he needed to find that. Think, think!  
  
Turning back facing the door, he started to thump on it. Bang! Bang! Bang!  
  
"Hey!" He shouted as loud as possible. "Anybody! Get me out of here! Help! HELP!!!" He stopped to listen to any sign from the other side of the door. Nothing. Again, he cried out, "HELP! HELP ME! ANYBODY! PLEASE!"  
  
Frodo placed his ear against the door, listening. None. Not even a single sound of the wind. He was wondering where he could be.  
  
After several minutes thumping and yelling, Frodo gave up. His throat felt dry. He kicked the door, irritated, and cried out as a searing pain hit his foot.  
  
He was left alone for how long he couldn't tell. He slipped to unconsciousness and came to for several times. He felt weaker and weaker every minute.  
  
But once he was aware of someone else's presence. It was still too dark to see but he knew it was Merry. Frodo didn't get up or show a sign of acknowledgment for he was very tired and starving, and the thought of Merry alone left him with mixed feelings. Fear, disgust, confusion, but also sadness.  
  
"Frodo." The voice frighteningly soft, Frodo shivered slightly. He was thankful that he was still able to think straight. He shuddered to the image of what would happen if he lost his common sense and couldn't tell illusion from reality.  
  
"You remember Bilbo's ring, Frodo?" asked Merry. "It's mine now. But I still need to ask you something, cousin. What's exactly the use of it? How can it be useful for me? I know it looks precious, but I don't think Bilbo wanted to keep it for so long if it's just a common piece of jewelry."  
  
Unexpectedly, a roar of laughter exploded from Frodo's mouth. A cynical one, though, not his merry and crispy one.  
  
"Merry --- Merry," he breathed. "Give it up! You know I won't tell you anything about that. It's so silly of you to think that I would ever reveal the ring's secret. It's mine! My own!"  
  
Merry went pale. For a moment he was completely abashed. It was so right of Frodo to call him silly. Where else could you find a thief who didn't really know what to do with treasure already gained? But hey, now, who did you call a thief?! Merry shook his thoughts off, feeling even much sillier. He looked down at Frodo who was lying on his stomach on the floor. Unlike Frodo, he had a very clear sight against the darkness thanks to the ring.  
  
"Frodo, look at me," ordered him. There were no sound and no sign of Frodo obeying his command. "I said, LOOK AT ME!!" He grabbed a lock of Frodo's curls and jerked it up, forcing Frodo to look up. Frodo's eyes flashed wildly, unsure to what direction he had to see. He winced because of the pain.  
  
"I --- I wouldn't tell you anything - ahh - Merry," he repeated, reaching for the hand holding his hair tightly. Merry sneered at the unseeing hobbit, tightening the grasp.  
  
"Tell me, Frodo, now!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Well, then, you asked for it!"  
  
Mercilessly, he tossed Frodo's head hard against the tiled floor. Frodo was too shocked by the action and the pain that suddenly erupted on his forehead to scream. He choked and sank back to the oblivion.  
  
***  
  
"What's your name?" asked Strider. Sam gave him his name.  
  
"I'm his gardener," he added. Strider looked at him unbelievingly.  
  
"A gardener! What did a gardener do in such a dangerous quest your master had to go through?"  
  
Sam said, defensively, "I have to follow my master wherever he goes! I made a promise to Gandalf to never leave him alone."  
  
Strider looked stricken. "You know Gandalf!"  
  
"Of course I do!"  
  
"So you must know the manner of your quest as to why your master had to leave the Shire?"  
  
"I do. I mean I know what thing he has and the story of the dark lord and all. But I'm not really sure about what he will do."  
  
Strider let the information sink. Then he asked another question.  
  
"Who are the two hobbits I saw with Frodo?"  
  
Sam threw his glance out of the window. Clouds seemed to shade over his eyes. "They are Mr. Frodo's cousins, Mr. Strider, sir," said Sam faintly. "I couldn't understand why they had brought harm to Frodo. The bigger of the two is Merry and the other one is Pippin." The ranger seemed to be taken aback. Cousins?! Their behaviors appeared more like those of orcs.  
  
***  
  
Moaning, Frodo was slowly regaining his consciousness. His head was throbbing badly. He reached his forehead and felt warm, sticky liquid. It had to be his blood. He got up and rushed to what he thought was the corner of the room. He felt like the world was spinning heavily but he didn't care. If he had to vomit, it had to be somewhere seemingly far and unreachable.  
  
Frodo heaved and heaved although it was just fluid. Dizzy and nauseous, he went back to his former spot.  
  
On his way back he bumped into something on the floor. He cursed silently. Apparently he had gone to a different way as nothing was on his way before. But --- the sounds produced were like a falling bottle and gulps of water. His heart stopped. Had there been a bottle of water there? And now the bottle was emptied because of his own carelessness! His terribly dry throat became even more parched as he imagined how good it should be to sip even just a drop of water.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	9. Chapter 9

Rose Cotton: Yes, Merry and Pippin are nasty because they have to be nasty! ^_^ No, just kidding. It is because of the ring. And the fight between them for the ring, that's possible.  
  
CleopatraVII: Oh, what a heavy job continuing this story. I hope I can still make it as interesting. Enjoy!  
  
Aelgifuemma: Thanks a lot for the elaborated critique. It helps me see things more clearly. Please keep reading and reviewing!  
  
AN: Ha! The more I write this story the more I realize how I LOVE Frodo and Elijah! I went to see TTT for the second time today and planned to see more. I know I have to spare time to see 8 Mile but I can't afford to sacrifice my time seeing other movies while TTT is still around! I feel like Gollum being obsessed, but for me it's not for the ring but for the movie itself! I have been obsessed for a year and I'm ready to extend the feeling! Another thing, I got the soundtrack! About the story, I feel it's getting more difficult to carry on. Why did I start writing it in the first place? ( ( ( BTW, is there any woods in Bree?  
  
Warning: AU, violence  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Merry stormed out of the cellar's door and went up to the barn where the cellar was and went out to the woods. He then walked quickly back to the inn. Pippin was in the room and he jumped when Merry burst in.  
  
"Sweet Elbereth! What is the matter with you?!" Pip yelled.  
  
"He won't tell me! He WON'T tell me!"  
  
"Tell you what, cousin Merry?"  
  
Merry took the ring out of his pocket and showed it to Pippin. "He won't tell me the use of it. He even laughed at me saying that I was stupid to ask about that. Worst of all, I DID feel stupid."  
  
"Well, he was wrong, cousin! Of course you weren't being stupid, and you'll never be! Asking is perfectly normal if one doesn't know something."  
  
Merry looked at Pippin intensely. Was Pippin just trying to cheer him up or he too was stupid? Sometimes Merry couldn't stand Pippin's complete innocence. He always seemed to be able to see the positive side of everything. Suddenly Pip stretched his hand out, palm up.  
  
"Can I touch it, Merry?" his voice was as clear as that of the elves. But the request surprised Merry so.  
  
"You may NOT touch it, Pip! You know that. I got it and it is mine now," Merry snarled.  
  
Pippin recoiled. "I just want to know if some way I can find out about its function," he said slowly. "Why are you so angry?"  
  
Merry was still glaring at him. "You are not to ask anything about it again, Pip! End of discussion. If you want to help me find out about it, go ask Frodo. Make sure he gives you the answer this time, Pippin, or he will see the consequence!"  
  
***  
  
He must have fallen in such a deep slumber for quite a long time that he didn't know someone had entered the room bringing the water. Was it Merry?  
  
***  
  
(flashback)  
  
It wasn't Merry. It was just some Bree woman paid by him to send the water. The woman carefully entered the room. Lifting the lantern she brought higher, she tried to find Frodo. There he was, lying on his stomach in a corner with his right side of his face facing up. Too bad it wasn't the side that was covered with blood. The woman held her breath.  
  
*This is not a hobbit! This is an elf. He is too beautiful. His face isn't the usual round and tanned face a hobbit usually has. This one has such an angular fair face.*  
  
But looking more closely, the woman noticed Frodo's knotted brow and ragged breath. He looked as if he was having a nightmare or was in a deep pain. The woman cringed. She had a boy. And since she was one of the big folk, she could tell that Frodo was more or less as big as her boy was. All of a sudden she felt that she really wanted to take Frodo in her arms and bring him away from this foul place. She had been told why Frodo was kept here but she was sure it was due to an evil deed of someone else and not from Frodo himself. This pretty little creature had got to be innocent.  
  
***  
  
Frodo reached around and eventually found the bottle. He put the mouth of it on his lips and lifted it. When realizing there was still water in it, his heart leapt with joy. He took one sip and another and another. But then he realized something. He couldn't finish the water right away, not with his not knowing when he was going to be released or when he managed to free himself.  
  
Frodo slumped back to the wall behind him. Desperate and frightened, he started to sob. He wept softly for a moment. He felt completely overwhelmed by everything that had happened to him in the last couple of days. And being in the basement was the worst for him. He started to feel claustrophobic; feeling the air was too tight for him to breathe. Once he hopelessly tried to loosen whatever restricted his throat: his shirt and waistcoat. But it was useless. Even after everything was loosened, he still felt choked. The hunger that was purposely inflicted on him was successfully weakened him as well. He was so weak now that he couldn't move without feeling dizzy and nauseated.  
  
"Mama," he whimpered softly, and tears would come running down his cheeks once more. "Let me die. Let me just die to come and be with you." Frodo was so, so lonely and miserable. He curled up, trying to forget his starving stomach, dizziness, and the pains all over his body. Slowly he faded into the shadow.  
  
***  
  
"What's the matter with you, woman?" snapped a guy who happened to be the owner of the Black Stallion inn. "Don't you make a face like that in front of the guests. People might think you've just lost a relative. Cheer up!"  
  
"Sorry," she mumbled. "But I couldn't put him out of my mind. Not with the tortured expressions on his strikingly beautiful face."  
  
"What do you mean?!"  
  
"You know of whom I spoke. The prisoner Mr. Meriadoc asked me to take care of. His condition is very bad. He was unconscious when I went to give him water. But you know; he looks so innocent. I have a feeling he's not a thief as indicted."  
  
"Stay out of it, woman! That's not your business. Mr. Meriadoc said he had stolen something from his own uncle. Can you imagine that? His own uncle! We don't need to have pity to people who have the heart to steal from their own kinsmen."  
  
The woman didn't say anything.  
  
But then they didn't realize there were three pairs of eyes watching and listening to their loud conversation. Those Isengard spies knew exactly whom they were discussing about. It had been days they lost the track of the little good-looking hobbit. They knew he used to be in the inn but then he disappeared. They had always just spotted the other two. And now when the word beautiful was being mentioned, they knew they had found him.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
The door cracked open. Pippin walked in with a small candle in one  
  
hand and a long, thin cane in the other. Frodo didn't even stir.  
  
Floating between life and death, he was still conversing with his  
  
dead mother.  
  
"Help me, mama," he whispered with a voice of a small boy. "Let me  
  
come with you. Let Merry have the ring."  
  
But a gentle voice persuasively answered, "The ring belongs to you,  
  
my dear boy. Your cousin Bilbo gave it to you. You must claim it  
  
back."  
  
In his sleep Frodo shook his head a little. "That's impossible. Merry  
  
has changed and he is very ---"  
  
"And now he wants to know how it works."  
  
The voice changed a bit although it was still his mama's. Frodo  
  
tilted his head with eyes still closed.  
  
"No, mama. I won't tell him that. It will be very dangerous, even for  
  
Merry."  
  
"Well, you don't know that. Who knows how many good deeds he might do  
  
with the help of the ring.  
  
Frodo grimaced. He remembered all of Merry's cruel manners toward  
  
him. He recalled the beatings, kicking, and drugging that had been  
  
done to him. Why should Merry act differently towards others? Then  
  
the voice was heard again, pushier this time.  
  
"Come on, Frodo. Do what is best - for you. You don't want him to  
  
hurt you again, do you?"  
  
Frodo frowned. He began to wonder. This didn't make sense. His own  
  
mother trying to make him betray a promise he'd made to another?  
  
"Mama?" he continued, questioningly.  
  
Then suddenly, without prior warning, a searing pain sliced across  
  
his leg. His eyes jerked open, a wailing cry escaped from his lips.  
  
He turned his body over. Slowly, Frodo became aware of Pippin's  
  
figure looming over him -clutching a cane-no less! Apparently, Pippin  
  
had just rapped him with it. Frodo shut his eyes back tightly. He  
  
silently made a decision. No, he couldn't stand this kind of  
  
treatment anymore. All of his fighting spirit had left him. The ill-  
  
treatment and confinment had finally broken him. Frodo opened his  
  
eyes just in time to see Pippin's cane raised to deliver a second  
  
thrashing. Frodo raised his hands protectively in front of his face  
  
to ward off the next blow. Frodo let out a small yelp.  
  
"Pip! Take me to Merry! Take me to him now."  
  
Pippin grinned and said sarcastically, "Growing weak, are you?  
  
Can't stand our service anymore, eh? You know what, Frodo. We  
  
wouldn't have gone this far if you have given in from the very  
  
beginning. And Sam didn't have to die."  
  
Frodo gazed up. The old pain resurfaced. Why did they make it so  
  
difficult for him? Why did they like to see him to suffer so much?  
  
Pippin grabbed Frodo by his left arm and pulled him to his feet.  
  
Frodo swayed but managed to steady himself. He pushed himself to  
  
follow Pippin. At times he felt like fainting and hastily caught  
  
Pip's hand. When they were finally outside, Frodo sighed in  
  
disappointment. It was nightime and the world was silent. Frodo saw  
  
that he had been kept in a barn in the wild. He swallowed hard. That  
  
meant nobody would have ever found him unless they had purposely gone  
  
there.  
  
It took quite a long time for them to reach the Black Stallion Inn.  
  
Frodo trudged wearily. Sometimes he was behind Pippin, sometimes in   
  
front. Once it struck his mind to attempt to run away --but he was  
  
doubtful. That would part him even further from the ring. In the end  
  
he decided to continue following Pip.  
  
Frodo struggled to keep himself from falling down. It was tiring,  
  
very tiring. But he didn't want to give up. A hope surged in him. He  
  
had despaired while he was locked in the dark. Now being outside  
  
again, anything could happen. Merry had better beware.  
  
But, Elbereth! It was such a drain to keep himself awake. His body  
  
screamed for food, for rest, and for healing from the torment he had  
  
received. Frodo looked up. Without realizing it, he was down on his  
  
hands and knees.  
  
Pippin looked down upon Frodo in disgust, but with a hint of pity.  
  
Pippin was smaller than Frodo. He would have to drag Frodo if he  
  
wanted to help him move. It was impossible for Pippin to carry Frodo.  
  
"Let's go, Cousin. I'll support you with my shoulder. I really don't  
  
want to pull you by the hair."  
  
Frodo cringed at the possibility. Pippin's words stirred him into  
  
motion. Yet there was something about Pippin's words and the way he  
  
said them. They almost sounded like words the sweet old Pip he used  
  
to know might say. Frodo lifted his hand and was taken strangely  
  
gently by his cousin.  
  
"Pip," he said, tears welling in his azure eyes. But he didn't  
  
continue as he recognized Pippin had returned to his new self --cold,  
  
distant, and cruel. He half-dragged Frodo to the inn.   
  
Inside, Frodo was welcomed by curious glances from the guests in the  
  
inn's pub. Frodo had been hoping that someone would be kind enough as  
  
to inquire about his injured face and body. But he had no idea what  
  
kind of story had been spread around by his generous cousins. So,  
  
instead of pity he received mocking and accusing looks. Frodo  
  
shuddered and hung his head. His heart was full of trouble and  
  
misery. Silently he let himself be brought to Merry and Pippin's room.  
  
***  
  
Frodo didn't realize that some of the glances cast more than a  
  
curious look. The woman who had brought him water looked on - her  
  
heart breaking at the pitiful sight. Of course Frodo couldn't  
  
recognize her because he had been unconscious at that time. But that  
  
didn't matter to her. She didn't need his gratitude. She only wanted  
  
Frodo to know that there was still someone who cared for him in this  
  
world. To this end, she tried hard to attract Frodo's attention -  
  
but to no avail. Frodo was so desperate and agonized by this point  
  
that he paid no heed to his surroundings anymore. The woman uttered a  
  
loud sigh when Frodo finally disappeared behind the door.  
  
TBC 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
Disappointment was not the woman's alone. The three men from Isengard  
  
who had been trying to spot Frodo also felt the same way. They were  
  
quite surprised to see the very person they'd been looking for  
  
suddenly step out of nowhere. The impact was almost comical. The  
  
leader, Ted, almost jumped up to hug --- er --- to grab Frodo.  
  
Luckily, his two companions stopped him.  
  
"Are you mad!" hissed one of them. "You want to declare to everybody  
  
who we are and what we are doing?!" Ted sat back. He heaved loudly.  
  
"Sorry. Just don't wanna lose him again," he muttered. "He did look  
  
terrible, though, and weak! Can't see why Sharkey wants him so badly."  
  
His two underlings looked at him in hesitation. "So, are we backing  
  
away? Do you think it will be all right with our lord?"  
  
Ted snapped harshly. "You fools! Who said anything about aborting the  
  
mission? You want him to behead you, which is probably a better  
  
plan?!"  
  
They recoiled. Why was he so angry? Hadn't they only tried to give a  
  
suggestion? But Ted was probably right saying that they were fools.  
  
They hadn't even seen the mistake they had made.  
  
"What should we do, then, boss? Just break into his room? The  
  
halflings holding him are nothing for us. We can kill them if  
  
necessary!"  
  
"Why not?" growled Ted. "But I think we can make use of the woman.  
  
Let's go get her!"  
  
***  
  
Merry wasn't in the room when Frodo and Pippin arrived. Frodo sensed  
  
again that hollow feeling he had felt ever since he lost the ring. He  
  
shook his head trying to will the sense away.  
  
Exhausted, Frodo walked to the nearest chair, helped by Pippin. His  
  
dark curls were soaked with sweat and his stomach was growling. Stars  
  
started to blink in his eyes.  
  
Pippin led him to the chair facing a table and sat him down gently, -  
  
so gently it made Frodo wonder. Perhaps the ring's absence was the  
  
answer to this new kindness. Or perhaps Pip wasn't affected yet.  
  
As Frodo slumped like a pile of rags in his chair, his nose detected  
  
a delicious smell. It came from the table. Forgetting his weary body,  
  
Frodo shot a wide-eyed gaze toward the table. Food! Any and all kinds  
  
of food dearly loved by hobbits: creamed mushrooms, pineapple buns,  
  
applesauce! Frodo didn't wait for an offer. He clawed his two hands  
  
reaching the nearest plates. A bun and a hand-scoop of applesauce and  
  
he gobbled them down greedily in a single mouthful. Dear Elbereth,  
  
they were so delicious! He almost forgot how they really tasted. How  
  
he had been starved so far -- -  
  
But that was a problem. His stomach had been empty for so long it  
  
couldn't stand a sudden attack of food. The second all the food  
  
reached the bottom of his belly, Frodo felt it force its way out his  
  
throat again. He covered his mouth with his hand trying to hold back  
  
the lump of food and ran out of the room.  
  
Pippin was taken aback by what he saw and Frodo was too swift for him  
  
to catch. All he could do was follow Frodo outside.  
  
His cousin was not very far at all. Pippin spotted Frodo kneeling  
  
down in a corner retching what little food that had been in his  
  
stomach. It took a long time for him and that long time was torture.  
  
His stomach reeled, his throat felt dry, and his lungs threatened to  
  
burst. Frodo staggered back when he was done. Completely spent,  
  
Frodo panted heavily, tears flowing freely down his haggard face.  
  
"Now, now. What is going on here?" Frodo tensed to hear Merry's voice  
  
behind him. "Cousin, is my sight not deceiving me? Have you just  
  
thrown away the food you took without permission from my table?"  
  
Frodo whimpered and slowly turned around. Fearfully, he looked up to  
  
meet his cousin's eyes, expecting to see an angry glint in them.  
  
Surprisingly, that wasn't what Frodo saw at all. Merry was, in fact,  
  
staring down at him with deep regret. Frodo couldn't help holding his  
  
breath. Had Merry also returned to be himself again?  
  
"Come, Cousin." Merry offered his hand, which was gratefully accepted  
  
by Frodo. "You mustn't be hasty. You know you haven't been eating for  
  
days, yet you so carelessly and greedily ate all the food."  
  
Frodo was shaking his head. He wanted to tell Merry that he hadn't  
  
eaten that much, but his voice refused to come out. In the end, he  
  
was just silent and let himself led again back to the room. Pippin  
  
followed quietly.  
  
In the room, Frodo was put back to his chair. He didn't do anything  
  
as he watched Merry get him a plate and fill it with applesauce.  
  
"Here, Frodo," cooed Merry. "You need to have the soft food first to  
  
have your stomach got used to the others. Eat it all, Frodo. You must  
  
be starving. This can help you to regain your strength."  
  
Deep in his mind, Frodo felt that he was actually upset at what Merry  
  
had said. Of course he was starving! And who was to blame for that?  
  
But his mind seemed to be under a spell. And all that Frodo knew  
  
was his unbounded gratitude towards Merry.  
  
His cousin seemed to be very patient in facing Frodo. It was still  
  
very difficult for Frodo to swallow even something as soft as  
  
applesauce. Frodo's bright, blue eyes went wide when Merry took his  
  
spoon and started to feed him. A lump that was not from the food  
  
formed in his throat, blocking even further the way of the  
  
applesauce. But Frodo didn't care. Merry's tender act astonished  
  
Frodo so much that he really felt like crying. 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
  
One of the Isengarders got up from his seat and walked casually to  
  
the counter. He waved to the woman who then approached him.  
  
"The halfling," he said hoarsely. "What's with him?"  
  
The woman squinted suspiciously. "And who are you, nice man?" She  
  
inquired politely, her voice hinting something that made the man  
  
blush.  
  
"Oh, pardon me. I'm not trying to do anything --- queer. I was just  
  
wondering. I saw how people looked at him just now. And I wondered  
  
what was going on there. It's because, you know, he's not a plain  
  
hobbit. He's rather pretty!"  
  
The woman observed him more closely. Suspicion left her face,  
  
replaced by pity.  
  
"Ah, I see what you mean. But you see, I don't think he would be  
  
right for you. I mean, he's not one of those halflings who --- who -"  
  
She made the man groan impatiently. She continued at once. "He's not  
  
one of those harlots."  
  
The man chuckled. "Well, he doesn't need to be one officially,  
  
right?"  
  
The Isengard spy felt amused by his own disguise. He wouldn't mind,  
  
though, having the hobbit for himself for one or two nights. His gaze  
  
wandered and fell to his companions. They were frowning at him.  
  
Suddenly reminded of his real task, he turned back to the woman.  
  
"Come on. Don't you act as if you were his mother. You don't even  
  
know him. Tell me where he is staying!"  
  
The woman reeled back, surprised by the sudden change of the man's  
  
tone.  
  
"I --- I can't tell you. It's the private ---"  
  
"Look, woman!" snapped the man. "I can get my friends down here and  
  
let them do the asking, which won't be done very nicely --- or you  
  
can answer me now! We have some business to do with the halfling, so  
  
go on with the answer."  
  
She kept silent. It was bad enough for Frodo to deal with Mr.  
  
Meriadoc and Mr. Peregrin. He didn't need anyone else to harm him.  
  
This ruffian looked dangerous.  
  
A movement from the man made her gasp. A flashing knife was suddenly  
  
in his hand.  
  
"I guess we need to have a walk," said the man icily.  
  
***  
  
Patiently Merry would scoop up spoonfuls of applesauce and bring them  
  
gingerly to Frodo's mouth, and Frodo would accept them with  
  
delight. He no longer had difficulty swallowing, as Pippin would give  
  
him water every time he finished a spoonful. Frodo's cousins sat  
  
on  
  
either side of him, making sure that he ate up all the applesauce.  
  
Frodo looked up at Merry tenderly. There was no longer any fear in  
  
Frodo's eyes - instead they had taken on a vague and glassy  
  
quality.  
  
"Merry," Frodo called softly. Merry gave him a warm smile. Frodo  
  
gasped a little, realizing that it was the first smile given to him  
  
in the last few horrifying days.  
  
"Yes, Frodo?"  
  
"I know it'll never be enough for me to thank you, but," he said  
  
haltingly. "I thank you anyway."  
  
Merry's smile widened. Pippin laughed a little.  
  
"There's no need, Frodo. There's no need to say thank you. I know  
  
these last days have been so heavy for you."  
  
Frodo closed his eyes. All the mistreatment that he had received was  
  
coming to his mind again. He felt a knot in his stomach. What had he  
  
done to deserve all that, anyway? Everything seemed blurry right now,  
  
as if a cloud had come veiling Frodo's mind. What he could remember  
  
were the pain and the cruel manners of his cousins. But he didn't  
  
understand the cause of it. He whimpered slowly. Well, perhaps, he  
  
did deserve to be punished. He most probably had made a big mistake.  
  
Merry extended his hand and caressed Frodo's cheek with the back of  
  
it. Frodo welcomed it and, while keeping his eyes closed like a  
  
contented kitten, grasped Merry's hand with both of his and kept  
  
it in place. He felt strangely and agonizingly peaceful. Merry's  
  
touch reminded him of his mama's, which had been so soft, tender  
  
loving. Oh, how he missed her!. A teardrop escaped his eye.  
  
"Merry, please ---" His voice was caught in his throat.  
  
"Please what, Beloved?"  
  
Frodo's eyes fluttered open. They look so sad and vulnerable.  
  
"Please don't put me back in that dark place. It frightened me very  
  
much."  
  
"But Frodo, what should I do if you disobey me? I don't want to have  
  
to hurt you."  
  
Frodo cringed, quivering all over.  
  
"Nooo, don't," he sobbed. "I --- I,"  
  
"Then you promise me that you will be obedient?"  
  
Silence  
  
"If that's the case, I'm not going to let any harm come upon you,  
  
Frodo."  
  
Still silence  
  
"You must promise me."  
  
Frodo hung his head.  
  
"Because I promise to do what I said. Do you trust me, Frodo?"  
  
He looked up, his eyes searching for any signs of deceit in Merry's  
  
greenish blue orbs. He found none. Slowly he nodded.  
  
"Thank you, my dearest cousin," said Merry seriously. Pippin patted  
  
Frodo in the head. "You know that you can always trust me."  
  
As if relieved from a spell, Frodo nodded again and smiled, beginning  
  
to feel more cheerful. He went back to his applesauce.  
  
After finishing with the applesauce, Frodo looked hopefully at the  
  
bread. He wouldn't mind munching on one or two of them. His stomach  
  
growled, agreeing with the idea.  
  
Frodo reached out a hand to take one of the buns when Merry stopped  
  
him. He softly drew Frodo's hand away. Frodo looked up questioningly.  
  
"Merry?"  
  
"A moment, Frodo. Before you take the bread, which is extremely fine  
  
with me, I'd like to ask you something first."  
  
"What is it, Merry?" Frodo's voice was that of a small boy.  
  
"But you must promise me that you will answer it. Or ---" Merry said,  
  
as if reluctantly. "You will not get your bread." His tone suddenly  
  
changed. "And I really don't want that to happen, Frodo. You must  
  
understand that I would not be the one denying you the bread."  
  
Frodo's eye lids blinked slowly. He didn't quite follow what Merry  
  
was saying. "Just give me your question, Cousin, and I'll try to  
  
answer it," he said eventually.  
  
"Did you love your parents, Frodo?"  
  
It was an unexpected yet easy question. Frodo smiled widely,  
  
innocently. "And for answering that I can get a roll of bread? Why,  
  
Cousin, of course I loved my parents. And I still love them."  
  
Merry handed his cousin the bread, which was grabbed quickly and  
  
devoured. He felt like winning a game. And an easy one! He wouldn't  
  
mind being asked again.  
  
Therefore, when the bread was finished, he just waited. Merry looked  
  
Frodo in the eye again.  
  
"You want another bread?" Merry asked -already knowing the  
  
answer. Small curves formed at the corners of Merry's lips.  
  
"Then this is the second question. What did Gandalf say about the  
  
ring?"  
  
TBC 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
Hearing the mentioning of the ring, Frodo's face clouded. He looked  
  
at the table and then turned to Merry. Reluctance was seeping through  
  
his heart. Frodo didn't say anything.  
  
Merry raised his eyebrows.  
  
"What?" Merry asked in obvious irritation. "You don't want  
  
to answer that? I've told you, Frodo. It's not me who denies you the  
  
bread. It's you yourself. You just need to reply, and boom! You get  
  
your bread."  
  
Frodo shifted in his chair. He felt his stomach roaring again. Frodo  
  
cast his glance to the piles of food that were awaiting his answer.  
  
"I --- I can't answer that. It is to be kept secret."  
  
Merry shrugged. "Up to you, Frodo. Just remember that you can't have  
  
your bread before ---"  
  
Merry didn't finish his sentence, merely staring at the dazed face in  
  
front of him. Surely a portion of applesauce couldn't be enough to  
  
quench a several-days-without-food kind of hunger, could it? He was  
  
looking at Frodo silently.  
  
Be patient, he reminded himself. He knew his cousin very well and he  
  
knew Frodo could be very stubborn sometimes. But in his weakened  
  
condition, Merry was sure Frodo would eventually give up. He reached  
  
out to touch Frodo's sweaty curls but the hobbit flinched.  
  
Merry glared. Apparently he had lost Frodo's hard-won trust -  
  
trust that Merry had forged by manipulating Frodo's fear of him. But  
  
now the trust was gone. Cursing silently to himself, Merry blamed his  
  
own impatience. This shouldn't have happened too quickly, not when he  
  
still needed Frodo to tell him the secret.  
  
Frodo started to shiver and sat restlessly in his chair. He didn't  
  
dare to raise his eyes. The minutes passed by seemed like eons. Not  
  
once in that time did Merry and Pippin release Frodo from their  
  
relentless gaze-not while Frodo remained silent. A few times Frodo  
  
shut his eyes when the feeling of fear and intimidation became  
  
unbearable. In the meantime he tried to calm his hungry stomach that  
  
protested harder and harder. Frodo was at the brink of giving up when  
  
he saw Merry rise from his chair and sigh loudly. Frodo's bigger-  
  
shaped cousin took one of the buns and turned to Frodo, towering over  
  
him.  
  
"All right then, Cousin," Merry finally said in a huff. "I  
  
can't stand seeing you torturing yourself like this. You may take  
  
this roll."  
  
Merry handed the shivering hobbit the bread.  
  
Frodo's brilliant eyes shone apprehensively and distrustfully. What  
  
would be the catch for this, he wondered silently. And finally,  
  
after thinking for a while, Frodo took the roll with a trembling hand.  
  
"Thanks," Frodo murmured meekly, and with no small measure of fear.  
  
Frodo wasn't paying attention to Merry anymore as he sent the bread  
  
to his mouth. Frodo didn't see as Merry's right hand flew violently  
  
in his direction and backhanded his face as hard as it could, sending  
  
Frodo flying from his seat to the floor. His ears rung, his cheek  
  
stung like fire, and his body crashed hard. Frodo moaned weakly  
  
before darkness overpowered him.  
  
**********  
  
A noise from the outside woke Sam from his sleep. "Whatever is  
  
happening?" he muttered. He was a bit upset because of the  
  
disturbance. He had been sleeping too little, spending most of the  
  
time searching for Mr. Frodo.  
  
Both he and Strider were at a loss as to what other places to look  
  
for Frodo. Frodo and his kidnappers had seemingly disappeared into  
  
thin air. Might they have gone out of Bree? Strider was most  
  
discouraged. How could an experienced Ranger such as himself lose  
  
track of a hobbit in a city of men? Worse, he had promised Sam that  
  
he would find his master as soon as possible - but to no avail.  
  
Days had passed by since he first spotted Frodo's bound frame at  
  
Prancing Pony and since he first met Sam. Strider understood that  
  
Frodo's life was in greater peril with every passing day.  
  
Sam jumped out of his bed and saw that Strider was no longer in the  
  
room. He went to the window. People were crowding on the street  
  
across the inn in the far right. Curious, he grabbed his cape and  
  
went outside.  
  
Strider was already there. Sam tapped his shoulder.  
  
"What is it?" he whispered. Strider didn't say anything, just pulling  
  
Sam closer to him.  
  
"You don't need to see it. It is terrible beyond words"  
  
"Strider, what ---" But it was Sam himself who pulled his own body  
  
away from the crowd. He had seen it though, -- briefly. A body. A  
  
woman, it seemed. With her head almost cut off. Mutilated.  
  
Sam backed into a corner and fell to his knees, retching. He heaved  
  
over and over. Oh, what a horrifying view! He was reminded suddenly  
  
of Mr. Frodo. Sam shuddered. That could have been Frodo --- oh, no!  
  
He cut off his own train of thought angrily. He couldn't lose hope  
  
now!  
  
Sam heard steps behind him and a voice, "Are you all right?"  
  
Strider.  
  
Sam nodded and asked in quivering voice, "What --- what happened?"  
  
Strider shook his head. " I've no idea, but I will find out. I  
  
suspect all of this has something to do with your master."  
  
Sam preferred otherwise. It had better have NOTHING to do with Frodo.  
  
*********  
  
(Flashback)  
  
The woman stared in disbelief. Her mouth was slightly open.  
  
"Why the knife ---" But she was cut short.  
  
"Don't say anything. Don't even think of screaming," snapped the man.  
  
She couldn't do anything but to walk slowly toward the door. The man  
  
and his two companions followed from behind.  
  
At first the woman thought they would just talk outside near the inn,  
  
but the men motioned her to go on. They continued for a small  
  
eternity, for how far, she could not tell. Exhausted, she was  
  
panting heavily.  
  
"Where are we going?" asked her. Nobody replied, just signaling her  
  
to keep on going.  
  
Finally, when they got to a deserted alley, one of the men pulled her  
  
back. "Here will be fine."  
  
The woman turned around, fear shadowing her eyes. She didn't dare to  
  
ask anything. This was too much for a softhearted mother like her.  
  
"You know exactly where to find the hobbit." This was a statement,  
  
not a question. Terrified, she just nodded.  
  
"We don't want to disturb the other guests. That's why we don't want  
  
to break into each room to find him. Secrecy is very important."  
  
"But why?" Suddenly she found her voice again. "The poor boy is just  
  
an unlucky thief, although I myself don't believe he is a thief  
  
at  
  
all! He is too delicate to steal. Besides, the little thing has been  
  
treated very badly by his two captors.  
  
"Thief? So he is a thief? Are you sure?" Ted turned to the other  
  
two. "It confuses me even more. Sharkey wants us to get him a thief?"  
  
His chums only shrugged.  
  
"Well, whatever!" He steamed. "That's not our problem. What's  
  
most  
  
important now is to get our hands on that wretched little thief. And  
  
for the last time, woman, I'm asking you, where is he staying?!"  
  
The woman couldn't escape this time. Faintly she pointed out the room  
  
where the hobbit was kept  
  
"I --- I can go now, can't I?" She trembled. To her surprise, the  
  
three of them roared with laughter.  
  
"How can we do that, let you go?! You must be an utter fool!"  
  
Before she could do anything, a man had stepped behind her and  
  
brutally slid his dagger along her throat.  
  
TBC 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
  
The sky was blue; the sun shone generously. There was no trace of  
  
the rain that had poured cats and dogs the night before. Frodo gazed  
  
up to the sky and to the tall trees. Birds were dancing and chirping  
  
together on he treetops. Serenity pulsed through the hobbit's entire  
  
being.  
  
Frodo sighed, laying himself on the green grass with arms folded  
  
behind his head. He was armed with a book, a very good one, but the  
  
wind that was blowing gently made him want to just lie down and  
  
close his eyes. Slowly he was dozing off. In no time he fell into a  
  
deep and peaceful slumber.  
He was still in the dreamland when a voice called to him, distant as  
  
an echo, yet real as the summer sun.  
  
"Frodo! Frodo!"  
  
A hand touched his shoulder lightly. Lazily he opened his brilliant  
  
blue eyes and a smile formed on his diminutive lips.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
"Frodo, it's lunch time already."  
  
The eleven-year-old boy got up and hugged his mother tightly around  
  
her waist.  
  
"I love lunch time! I love meal times!"  
  
His mother looked down, smiling. She cupped Frodo's chubby cheeks in  
  
her palms.  
  
"Come on, love."  
  
At home, Primula had prepared her usual sumptuous meals. Her  
  
specialty, blueberry pie with cream, was waiting at the other end of  
  
the table. Frodo stared at the food with wide eyes. His mouth  
  
started to water.  
  
He sat down in his chair and reached out eagerly. To his surprise,  
  
something unseen seemed to restrain his arms. No matter how hard  
  
Frodo tried to pull his hands forward, he was not able to move  
  
them. His confusion grew as he tumbled into disorientation and  
  
darkness.  
  
"Mama ---?" Little Frodo wailed miserably. He looked up, his eyes  
  
searching frantically for his mother. But something strange  
  
happened. His mother was no longer there! And all the food, now was  
  
gone, too! In fact, Frodo couldn't see anything at all. His  
  
beautiful vision had been replaced by an inky blackness.  
  
Frodo jerked his head back and forth.  
  
"Mama?" he moaned. Frodo's breaths grew rapid. Oh, Eru, it was only  
  
a dream! His mother and all the food - just a dream. But they'd felt  
  
so real he could have touched them.  
  
A horrible truth slowly dawned on Frodo. He was not feasting on  
  
blueberry pie in the loving presence of his mother. Instead he was  
  
back in his chair - not in his family hole, but at the hateful Black  
  
Stallion Inn. Thick ropes held him in place. Frodo knew why he  
  
hadn't been able to pull his hands forward in the dream. His hands  
  
had been secured behind the chair in knots so tight his wrists had  
  
gone numb. And Frodo was blindfolded. His eyes felt warm with  
  
tears that were soaked up by the dark-colored cloth over his eyes.   
  
Frodo thrashed violently against the binds that confined him to the  
  
chair. Consumed by anger and hopelessness, he struggled hard to free  
  
himself. Merry and Pippin were not going to treat him nicely  
  
anymore. What if they had never really intended to be kind? What  
  
if they had planned to harm him from the very beginning? If so, how  
  
stupid he was, Frodo thought, to fall so easily for their fake  
  
compassion.  
  
But the dream was so nice. Why couldn't he leave everything behind  
  
and stay there forever with his mom?  
  
NO! He couldn't lose hope now and give up. Frodo resumed his  
  
effort. His chair began squeak and crack under his struggles.  
  
"Mama!" screamed Frodo.  
  
"Hey!" There was a shout. Merry.  
  
If his cousin had been sleeping, he surely was not anymore.  
  
"Be still, Frodo!"  
  
But the bound hobbit did not obey. Frodo continued squirming, trying  
  
to set himself free. Frodo gasped when a hand took his chin and  
  
snatched it to his right. He felt warm breaths as Merry spoke an  
  
inch from his own face.  
  
"You disobeyed me, Beloved." whispered Merry with almost obscene  
  
tenderness. "You forced my hand."  
  
Frodo tried to pull his face away but the grip was stronger. Nails  
  
dug into his skin.  
  
"Please ---"  
  
"Please what, Frodo?" Merry spoke directly into Frodo's ear, louder  
  
now. Frodo winced. Merry exploded.  
  
"You will stay in that chair UNTIL YOU TALK!" Merry spoke so loudly  
  
it made Frodo's ears ring.  
  
Frodo cried out in frustration. This time Frodo successfully jerked  
  
his head away from his cousin's grasp. It was too much, though, as  
  
he felt a sudden attack of dizziness come over him. But he willed  
  
himself. Even though the situation gave him little chance to win, at  
  
least later -- if there was a later, he could say that he had tried  
  
and never given in.  
  
***  
  
Sam looked at Strider, despair shadowing his gaze. "No news yet?"  
  
The man shook his head. "Nobody seems to know the woman. I've asked  
  
several Breelanders around but they can't give useful information  
  
about her. A bit queer because there's also nobody claiming to be  
  
her family. Poor lass."  
  
Sam groaned. He buried his face in his own hands. "I've failed.  
  
Failed! Mr. Frodo is dead already. He must be!"  
  
"Sam." A hand grasped his shoulder from the back. "You can't say  
  
that. We'll find him. We won't let terrible things happen to him."  
  
"But they've already happened," cut Sam. "And the promise I made, is  
  
futile. How I wish -"  
  
"I, too, am bound in a promise, Sam," stated Strider. "A promise to  
  
Gandalf."  
  
Strider knew exactly how to encourage Sam. The key word was Gandalf.  
  
Sam smiled faintly. "I, too, made a promise to Gandalf. And I  
  
intend to keep it"  
  
***  
  
Frodo had been tied down for two or three long hours, though he  
  
began to lose track of the time. His muscles were knotting up and  
  
his breathing stifled due to the tight blindfold that also covered  
  
his nose. The sound of Frodo's labored breaths might have broken a  
  
normal person's heart, but not his captor's.  
  
Frodo bowed his head. Frustration and dread gripped his soul. He had  
  
never liked darkness, even when he was sleeping. He'd always asked  
  
his mother to leave at least a small candle that would flicker  
  
through the night. And this cloth covering his eyes had lingered too  
  
long. Frodo couldn't guess how much longer his cousins planned to  
  
submerge him in darkness. He started to feel sick in the pit of his  
  
stomach. Frodo began to lose his orientation of time and place.  
  
An abrupt yank at Frodo's hair jerked his head backward. Elbereth!  
  
Frodo caught his breath. If it wasn't from the pain in his head,  
  
then it had to be from the whirling sensation that bathed his  
  
senses. The nauseous feeling he was having doubled. Frodo felt that  
  
he was going to be sick. Gasping for air, his parted lips let out a  
  
cry.  
  
"Gandalf!"  
  
In Frodo's heart, he cursed the fact that he was Bilbo's heir. He  
  
cursed the fact that he had inherited Bilbo's ring. Damn ring. Take  
  
it! TAKE IT! He really wanted to shout those words to Merry, who  
  
still gripped his hair. But part of Frodo's mind reminded him that  
  
it was NOT the right thing to do. Gradually Frodo started to get  
  
confused--confused over himself, confused over his surroundings, and  
  
confused over everything about the ring. 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
  
"Gandalf?" Merry's voice was full of mockery. "The old wizard who  
  
usually drops by Bag End and has a smoke or two?" He let go off  
  
Frodo's hair. Frodo said nothing but listened intently. He was still  
  
gasping. He tried not to panic while darkness still engulfed him.  
  
"I think Bilbo and you like this Gandalf very much, right?" Frodo was  
  
wondering where this conversation was leading. Merry spoke -  
  
strangely - soft.  
  
"And Gandalf likes both of you, too," Merry continued on, steering  
  
Frodo's mind.  
  
"Yes," replied Frodo, almost in a whisper. Realization dawned on him  
  
that he, in fact, was missing Gandalf terribly.  
  
"I think he loves you, Frodo, as his little boy."  
  
Frodo closed his eyes in anguish behind his blindfold and shuttered.  
  
The image of Gandalf played in his mind. Gandalf talking to him,  
  
Gandalf smiling at him, and even singing for him - oh, how perfect  
  
everything was at that time! How he wished ---  
  
"I know what you're thinking, Frodo," Merry interrupted Frodo's train  
  
of thoughts coldly, making Frodo tilt his head to Merry's direction  
  
subconsciously.  
  
"You are longing for him. You want him to be here with you. But you  
  
know what, Frodo?" Merry's voice changed into a crueler tone. "He's  
  
not here! In fact, he even left you to carry on the quest alone. He  
  
left you alone! You have to admit that as the truth. He left you so  
  
that you had to face your own danger and peril by yourself. Do you  
  
still consider him a friend, Frodo, or even mentor? If you ask my  
  
opinion, I will say that he's nothing but a bloody old coward!  
  
Frodo gasped to hear such harsh words.  
  
"No, no," he choked. "Gandalf is not like that at all. He won't do  
  
any such thing! He would not let me face the danger alone-Not if he  
  
could help it! He went away because ---"  
  
"But he went away, right?!" Merry cut him off. "Just like Bilbo did."  
  
Frodo jerked in his chair at the sound of his dear uncle's name.  
  
"B - Bilbo?" asked Frodo hoarsely.  
  
"Yes, your rich uncle. Mmm, that makes me wonder."  
  
Frodo heard the sound of Merry standing up and walking back and  
  
forth. He didn't want to guess what was in his cousin's mind.  
  
"Cousin," Merry stopped walking and turned around. "There must be  
  
something wrong with you. It seems strange to see how Uncle Bilbo  
  
left just like that. I know you have come to your adulthood, but  
  
still, someone needs to look after you, to give you guidance."  
  
Frodo swallowed. He remembered Bilbo and his birthday some time ago,  
  
and how Bilbo left directly in the birthday night, even before the  
  
party was over. He knew his uncle wanted to experience another  
  
journey before he was too old to have one. He also knew that age had  
  
finally begun to creep up on the dear old hobbit. And Frodo knew what  
  
the hateful ring had done to his uncle. Those were the reasons why  
  
Bilbo had to leave. And those reasons were of course TRUE. Frodo  
  
couldn't imagine if there was any other reason for Bilbo's departure.  
  
So, he didn't understand at all the doubts that were proposed by  
  
Merry.  
  
"Merry," Frodo tried to compose himself, though his voice began to  
  
quiver. "All the things you are saying are lies. Bilbo loves me and  
  
he wouldn't leave me unless he had very strong reasons for doing so."  
  
"There were no strong reasons, Frodo. He didn't have to go on those  
  
journeys. He had already encountered more than enough adventures when  
  
he was young. He could have just stayed at Bag End during his winter  
  
days, but he wouldn't. Why, Frodo, why? Are you sure you don't know  
  
the answer?"  
  
//Because he was tired of me, a lazybones who always spent his time  
  
reading, reading, and reading. Because in the past he was made to  
  
take me to Bag End. And why was that? Because nobody wanted me to  
  
stay in Buckland, at Brandy Hall//That was Merry's family home, not  
  
mine//I was an orphan, a burden!// Nobody wanted me//Everyone left me  
  
behind// I am abandoned, rudderless, lost!//  
  
Frodo could not see Merry's sadistic grin through his blindfold as he  
  
began to cry. Merry remained silent for a several endless minutes to  
  
let the dark thoughts fully penetrate Frodo's heart and mind. He  
  
remained silent as Frodo's fragile whimpers exploded into wracking  
  
sobs. Merry waited, and he smiled.  
  
Merry paused until Frodo's tears had subsided before administering  
  
the second dose of verbal poison. Frodo had begun to crack. Soon  
  
Merry would break him completely. He felt it in his bones. He'd never  
  
felt so powerful than standing over this pitiful creature. Finally,  
  
Merry broke the silence.  
  
"How about your parents? Why did they have to die?"  
  
Frodo arched his head back in despair. Please, please not his  
  
parents ---  
  
"Why did they have to die that pitiful way, drowned?" chased  
  
Merry. 'What were they doing on the river anyway?"  
  
How would Frodo know the answer? He was just twelve! He didn't even  
  
notice their disappearance until their lifeless bodies were drudged  
  
from the river. They'd been found in the morning. Why had they gone  
  
to the river the night before? Why had they gone at night at all?  
  
"You want to know what I heard about this?" Given the choice between  
  
yes and no, Frodo shook his head hard. But a stinging slap stopped  
  
him. It seemed that Merry didn't really intend for Frodo to answer.  
  
"According to my parents, Drogo and Primula, your father and mother,  
  
didn't really like to live at Brandy Hall. They wanted to return to  
  
Hobbiton-where they once lived. But --- they didn't want to bring you  
  
along. So they left at night, secretly, by the river so that nobody  
  
would hear them going, leaving you behind with the Brandybucks."  
  
Frodo couldn't tell if the story was true or not. He so wanted not to  
  
believe Merry's terrible words- but the way Merry recounted the story  
  
was so --- convincing.  
  
Frodo tried to shift in his chair but failed. He was restrained too  
  
tightly.  
  
"So you see, love," Merry carried on. "You are alone. UTTERLY ALONE.  
  
Nobody wanted you then, and nobody wants you now. You're a queer  
  
little fellow. A Freak."  
  
The claustrophobic feeling flooded back, Frodo threw his head back  
  
while panting heavily. When the fit finally passed, he turned his  
  
face to Merry's direction, demanding.something.  
  
"Why am I still here?" he asked desperately. "Why don't you just kill  
  
me now?"  
  
Merry looked at Frodo with a diabolical combination of amazement and  
  
amusement. It actually worked --- his plan had worked. Merry's once  
  
proud cousin had been literally broken, emotionally stripped, and  
  
hollowed out like a rotten gourd. Frodo's porcelain heart had been  
  
shattered to pieces.  
  
Now the real work would begin.  
  
TBC 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16  
  
Merry shortened the distance between him and Frodo, and reached out  
  
at the cloth covering his cousin's eyes and nose. He untied it, with  
  
gentleness and care.  
  
Frodo's eyes were closed even after the blindfold completely left  
  
his face. Merry bent down and kissed Frodo on the forehead as if he  
  
were a small child.   
  
"Open your eyes, Frodo," commanded Merry.  
  
The once bright eyes were now bleary and dull. Merry ran his  
  
fingers over Frodo's face, smoothing the knots on his brow.   
  
"Poor lad," he murmured quietly and studied the hobbit before him.  
  
He saw that days of incarceration had changed Frodo into a miserable  
  
being. He had become thinner and his complexion, which was way  
  
fairer than the other hobbits, had grown paler. Still, Merry found  
  
that Frodo's adorable charm lingered despite the total despair  
  
washing over his face.  
  
"Let - me - die," Frodo mumbled haltingly. The harsh reality induced  
  
by Merry was too much to bear. What would be the point of living at  
  
this state?  
  
"But you still have a task to fulfill, Frodo," a voice heard,  
  
reminding Frodo of the quest. The voice sounded like - Gandalf's.  
  
Frodo almost spat at the thought of the wizard.  
  
"Go away!" he yelled as his eyes shone wildly at nobody in  
  
particular.  
  
Pippin cringed to see his once-vibrant cousin reduced to such a  
  
state. Had Frodo been completely stripped of his sanity? Pippin saw  
  
Merry stretching his arms towards Frodo. Without a second thought,  
  
Pip grabbed Merry's wrists.  
  
"That's enough, Merry!" Pippin exclaimed.  
  
Pippin could not believe his own action. He had never done  
  
something like this to Merry before, always looking up to his older  
  
cousin. But seeing Frodo so tormented had almost awakened the jolly  
  
old Pippin from the corrupted one now influenced by the Ring's dark  
  
power.  
  
"Pip, let go!" Merry growled, trying to release his hands from  
  
Pippin's grip.  
  
When there was no sign of Pip letting him go, Merry hissed, "Look,  
  
fool, I'm not going to do anything anymore. Don't you see how  
  
pathetic Frodo is? Moreover, I'm wondering who he tried to cast away  
  
just now!"  
  
Staring hard at Pip for several minutes, Merry was finally able to  
  
cow the younger one into submission. Reluctantly, Pippin freed  
  
Merry, who said nothing to him but directly turned his gaze to Frodo.  
  
Merry caught Frodo's chin and tilted the tied hobbit's face up. "Who  
  
were you telling to go away?" Merry asked.  
  
Frodo's blurry eyes turned to Merry, unseeing.  
  
"W-what?" Frodo didn't seem to remember.  
  
"You screamed just now. It seemed like you wanted someone to go  
  
away," repeated Merry.  
  
Oh, that. Frodo hung his head.  
  
"Gandalf," he said weakly. "I suddenly heard his voice in my mind,  
  
reminding me not to abandon the journey. Yet, he himself abandoned  
  
me."  
  
Merry's heart jumped with joy. Frodo evidently believed that  
  
everyone had forsaken him! Merry suppressed a grin with great effort.  
  
"You see?" he said, feigning sympathy. "You didn't believe me,  
  
Frodo. But now you see for yourself."  
  
Frodo sighed heavily. He turned his gaze away.  
  
"But, Frodo, perhaps not everybody had left you," Merry added  
  
suddenly, his voice crisp as a morning dew. "You still have me," he  
  
said, stroking Frodo's left cheek with the back of his hand.  
  
Merry didn't know that in Frodo's ears, his words changed into: "You  
  
still have me, Mr. Frodo."  
  
Stirred, Frodo closed his eyes, leaning to the soothing hand.  
  
"Sam, oh Sam. I'm tired, Sam. Bring me out of here. Please," he  
  
pleaded forlornly. Tears streaming down again.  
  
Merry started. Sam?!! So it was Sam that Frodo always had in mind?!  
  
How dare him! Merry withdrew his caressing hand disgustedly and  
  
replaced it with a fist striking Frodo hard on the cheek.  
  
"Sam?!" Frodo was more surprised than hurt by the blow. He gaped in  
  
disbelief at the person in front of him, whoever it was.  
  
"I'm not Sam, Frodo! I'm Merry! M E R - R Y, MER-I-A-DOC!" Merry  
  
punctuated every syllable in his name furiously. Frodo looked at him  
  
in terror.  
  
"Merry?" he whimpered.  
  
"Yes, me! I'm the only friend you have, Frodo! Not that lowly  
  
gardener of yours who's been rotting in the ground for days. You  
  
have to accept that!"  
  
While digging up into his past memories, Frodo gasped at the sight  
  
of Merry releasing his heavy and thick leather belt. Vainly he tried  
  
to struggle again against the cords wrapping him. What would Merry -  
  
Merry swooshed his belt, making a chilling sound when it cracked in  
  
the air. Frodo's eyes went huge, his breath caught.  
  
"No, Merry. Pleeaassee -" his voice low and shaking.  
  
Merry moved to Frodo's right side, still swinging his belt. His  
  
voice thundered when asking the question.  
  
"Who is your friend, Frodo?!"  
  
Frodo straightened up in his chair, searching hopelessly for a name  
  
in his mind. No, not Bilbo, and definitely not Gandalf. Sam, yes, it  
  
had to be Sam. Frodo seemed to completely forget that for him, Sam  
  
was dead.  
  
"Sam?" he answered doubtfully.  
  
"WHAT!?" Merry blew up.  
  
With speed as fast as a flying Nazgul, he slashed the belt across  
  
Frodo's legs. It cut the poor hobbit's shins ferociously. Frodo  
  
arched back, screeching pitifully. It felt as if his two legs were  
  
on fire! His scream still lingered when Merry dropped another blow  
  
on exactly the same spot.  
  
"Aarrgghh!!" This was unexpected. Frodo never thought the other  
  
hobbit would resume his action that quickly. Frodo shut his eyes in  
  
agony. This was much more painful than anything he'd ever known,  
  
even more than when his heart was wrenched after finding out his  
  
parents' tragic death. He started to drift off when Merry pushed on.  
  
"Who is your friend!"  
  
Frodo licked his parched lips. He wondered what answer would satisfy  
  
Merry. Everyone in Hobbiton knew Frodo was such a lonesome fellow.  
  
He never had a real friend. The only person he could get close to  
  
was Sam --dear sweet, loyal Sam! Frodo continued to reward his  
  
tormentor the same unwanted answer.  
  
"Sam...?"  
  
"NO!"  
  
Merry angered even more and sliced down his leather belt over and  
  
over. Ugly welts were formed on Frodo's legs and blood leaked  
  
through his breeches. The pain was so excruciating for Frodo that  
  
he started to slip from consciousness. With the remaining whimpers  
  
escaping his lips, Frodo finally blacked out.  
  
***  
  
"Hah!" Merry barked furiously, yet satisfyingly, at the bloody frame  
  
before him. Frodo might still be able to keep his stubbornness, but  
  
Merry was sure it wouldn't be too long before he surrendered.  
  
Disgustedly, he cleaned the blood that stained his hands.  
  
"You stay here and make sure he won't go anywhere," commanded Merry  
  
to Pippin, who had just stared wide-eyed throughout the whole  
  
sickening ordeal.  
  
Merry walked out of the room and the inn into the dark alley when  
  
his eyes spotted two figures. He stared at them in utter shock.   
  
Strider and Sam! Strider had somehow managed to track them here, and  
  
what was more surprising, Sam was alive! Merry quickly hid behind  
  
the wall and waited until the two least expected men were out of  
  
sight.  
  
He sighed loudly when Strider and Sam had gone. His mind went back  
  
to Frodo. It was true that he had successfully blacked out Bilbo and  
  
Gandalf from Frodo's list of favorite people. But he wasn't sure  
  
about either Sam or this Strider. Merry felt his problems grow  
  
tenfold. He couldn't let Frodo find out anything about Strider.  
  
Frodo had to be convinced that the ranger was one of those ruffians  
  
Having plotted a couse of action, Merry strolled back to the inn.  
  
***  
  
Frodo awoke to the smell of roasted meat. At first he thought that  
  
it was just another cruel dream. He couldn't believe it when he saw  
  
real meat with real smashed potato, boiled carrots and beans on the  
  
table. They reminded Frodo of his empty stomach. When was the last  
  
time something was brought into it? What was the last thing he ate?  
  
Frodo barely remembered. Then it cam back to him. Applesauce!  
  
Applesauce spoon fed to him by ..Merry. Merry.his.friend?  
  
Frodo nervously glanced at the food. Merry had beaten the hell out  
  
of him. It was impossible he would spare Frodo some of the meat or  
  
even the potatoes. But hadn't Merry recently spooned Frodo the  
  
applesauce with his own hands? Merry had wanted to be kind...if  
  
only he had not....disobeyed. Perhaps Merry would forgive him.   
  
Perhaps the belt and his bleeding legs had been retribution enough.   
  
Might Merry let Frodo taste - just a little bit of the food? Would  
  
that be too much to ask? Frodo swallowed hard. He was truly sorry,  
  
though for what he couldn't rightly say.   
  
Merry noticed that Frodo had come to. He walked slowly toward the  
  
slumped figure, and looked deep into its pleading eyes.  
  
"Remember this, Frodo. I'm your friend. In fact, I'm the only friend  
  
you have."  
  
Merry watched the rivlet of tears that began to stream from Frodo's  
  
eyes.  
  
"Still my friend?" Frodo muttered in a soft voice filled with  
  
remourse and relief.  
  
Merry nodded with a paternal smile before throwing his glance at the  
  
food-laden table.  
  
"Hey, look what we have here - food! You are hungry, aren't you,  
  
my sweet?" purred Merry. "Frodo? I want to help you. Do you want   
  
the food?"  
  
Frodo couldn't trust his own ears. Merry did offer him food just  
  
like the other day! And when Pippin approached with a plate  
  
overflowing with food, Frodo couldn't hold back his tears anymore.  
  
He wept and wept. He felt totally wretched. Frodo cried so long and  
  
hard that he felt his insides would burst. It was difficult for the  
  
two cousins to calm Frodo's wracking sobs.  
  
"Come on, Frodo, dear," coaxed Merry as he ran his fingers through  
  
Frodo's hair.   
  
Pippin wiped Frodo's tears away with his own sleeve.  
  
"It's all right," Merry cooed. "Ssssh, Beloved, it's fine. I'm  
  
here."   
  
Frodo's cry lessened as he let Merry's hypnotic voice sooth him.  
  
"You didn't believe me when I told you that I was your friend," said  
  
Merry as he gently tilted Frodo's face to meet his gaze.   
  
"Do you believe me now?"  
  
Frodo nodded wearily.  
  
"All right, then."   
  
Merry tenderly cupped Frodo's cheeks in his two  
  
hands - something that Frodo vaguely remembered being done by his  
  
mother in one of his dreams.  
  
"Now, let's eat. I know you need it."  
TBC 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17  
  
Frodo could almost see himself back home again as he enjoyed the  
heavenly meal that Merry and Pippin hand fed him – meat,  
potatoes, carrots, beans, and – mushrooms! Though Frodo could hardly  
use his own hands to eat them, he didn't care. He could eat – that  
was the most important thing. What more, Merry was helping him do  
it. Merry had even instructed Pip to release his hands from his  
back and tie them at the front instead, so he would be more  
comfortable. Dear Merry!  
  
When they finished eating, Merry let Frodo curl up in the armchair.  
Though they did not unbind his hands and ankles, Frodo was too weary  
to protest and the food had made him sleepy. He was barely aware  
when Merry came and pulled a blanket over his body. Mumbling his  
thanks, Frodo drifted into – for the first time – a peaceful  
sleep.  
  
# -- # -- #

Unfortunately the sleep lasted too briefly. A pair of hands shook  
Frodo roughly, shattering his slumber.  
  
"What? Why? What happened?" Frodo jumped awake.  
  
"You wake up!"  
  
Merry yanked Frodo and pulled him off the chair. Frodo fell onto his  
knees hard as his legs were still bound. The knees cracked with a  
sickening sound and the pain rammed all over his body, almost  
sending Frodo back to the darkness.  
  
Frodo's eyes widened with wonder and fear. What had he done wrong  
this time? Hadn't Merry himself let him sleep? Hadn't Merry  
even covered him with a thick, warm blanket.  
  
"Merry?" Frodo asked anxiously and winced due to a sudden harsh blow  
to the back of his head. He struggled to get to his feet,  
forgetting for a moment the rope still binding his ankles.  
  
"That ranger!" shouted Merry. "Who is he?!"  
  
Frodo stared hazily at Merry at him with a big question mark in his  
eyes. What ranger?  
  
"Don't you dare stare at me with those pathetic, large eyes of  
yours!" warned Merry--his voice newly cruel. "Don't pretend you  
know nothing about him!" Merry seized a fistful of Frodo's hair  
and jerked it backward.  
  
"Ah! No, Merry! I really don't know him. I swear! Ai, Eru!" Frodo   
screamed when the grip tightened even more.  
  
"Really, Frodo? You SWEAR?!"  
  
Frodo nodded jerkingly, as best as he could with his hair snatched  
back.  
  
"Frodo," said Merry again. "You have to be honest with me. I'm  
your friend, remember?"  
  
"I AM being honest, Merry. You have to believe me," pleaded Frodo.  
  
"But I can't, cousin," Merry insisted. "If you really don't  
know him, how did he find out about this place?" Merry  
subconsciously recalled his recent encounter with both the ranger  
and Sam.  
  
Frodo could offer nothing and remained silent.  
  
Merry gave Frodo's fearful face a cursory glance before nodding to  
Pippin.  
  
"Give me a hand, Pip."  
  
Frodo stared in dismay as Pip approached him. This never led to  
anything good. Each of his cousins seized one of his arms and half-  
carried, half dragged Frodo back to a small second room. It had  
never occurred to Frodo that there was another small room hidden  
back there. Tears flowed involuntarily, and he began to whimper and  
beg.  
  
Fear was creeping up into Frodo's heart. He didn't want to be  
beaten again. The last thrashing had almost completely drained his  
sanity. His legs still bled badly.  
  
Frodo gasped when Merry and Pip slumped him down just like an  
unwanted sack in the corner of that room. But, oh dear Elbereth, he  
WAS an unwanted person. Nobody could stand to be near him, be with  
him. But then he remembered something. He still had Merry! Merry was  
his friend. Frodo hung his head submissively. He had to do whatever  
Merry wanted him to do. Yes, he had to just that. He didn't want  
to  
lose the only friend he had, did he?  
  
Still, Frodo couldn't understand Merry's last question. Ranger? WHAT  
ranger?  
  
"On your knees, Frodo."  
  
Frodo froze.  
  
"On your knees!" screamed Merry, tugging Frodo up from his lying  
position, forcing him to kneel on his bruised knees. Frodo caught  
his breath.  
  
"I saw the ranger walking down the alley tonight. Frodo?"  
  
Frodo shook his head vehemently.  
  
"I know no ranger," gasped Frodo. He wanted to offer the glowering  
faces in front of him something, so he kept talking. "...A-  
although I have seen some of them along the Shire's border. I  
guess...I g-guess maybe they are protecting the Shire."  
  
"So it's possible that you know this particular one?" Merry pushed  
on.  
  
"No, I don't, Merry. Please."  
  
But Frodo's plea blew like wind through his cousin's ears. Merry did  
not heed Frodo's words. Instead, Merry reached out, taking a bowl,  
and scooped some water from a big basin nearby. Watching with  
wonder, Frodo never suspected what would happen next.  
  
Before Frodo had time to think, frigidly cold water was poured down  
over his head and body. Frodo jerked and tried to jump up only to be  
held in place by Pippin. He held his breath, almost choking in the  
process. Frodo immediately began to shiver with cold. It felt like  
drowning in an icy lake.  
  
Merry repeated the water torture again, again, and again. He kept  
asking the same question, and Frodo kept giving the same unwanted  
answer. No, he didn't know the man.  
  
But Merry was hard to satisfy.  
  
"You were running to him back there at the Pony, were you not,  
Frodo?!"  
  
"No, Merry, no!" Frodo's cheeks were wet with both water and  
tears. "I DON'T know any rangers! I—" his voice faltered when  
his mind suddenly registered something. Merry caught the change on  
Frodo's face and got more infuriated.  
  
"See! You're lying. You're such a bad, bad boy, Frodo! You  
need more lessons!"  
  
With that Merry gushed more water over Frodo, making the hobbit  
choke with cold. Frodo's heart was completely filled with  
abhorrence toward the ranger now. He swore he would never, ever,  
want to have any dealings EVER with any rangers anywhere.  
  
"All right, all right---" Resignation and despair were in Frodo's   
voice. "I am a bad boy, a liar, a foul piece of garbage! I lied to  
you about the ranger. He was here to help me with the quest. The  
quest in which I have to safely deliver the ring to Rivendell.  
Gandalf and this Ranger were to help me. They were here to make sure  
that no one else took hold of the ring! Gandalf said it is a magic  
ring—but –Merry—it is an evil ring. The one that claims  
it will become more powerful than their wildest dreams, Merry, but  
at a price. It will corrupt them!."  
  
Frodo went on and on, only half-realizing what he was doing through  
his delirium. He didn't even know what he said about Strider was  
true – Strider being a friend to help him out. Gandalf never  
mentioned anything about this man. But Frodo wanted to say  
something --anything-to make the water torture stop.  
  
Merry stared at Frodo in awe. So, that was the answer to all  
Merry's questions. He should have worked it out himself. He had felt  
his own power growing after he had taking possession of the ring—  
even if he had not understood the source of this new strength.  
  
All right. Now he knew. What next? He realized that he couldn't  
just let Frodo go. Frodo was the real owner. People – besides the  
ranger and Sam would begin to look for him once they knew he was  
missing. Merry began to wonder, though, why Frodo never seemed to  
show this strength Merry felt and neither had Bilbo. Might that be  
because of  
their own innate power --- and their wisdom? Merry was unnerved by  
his own thoughts.  
  
Merry noted with dismay that Frodo had crumpled to the floor, half-  
unconscious and shivering violently. Merry pulled the limp body up,  
noting immediately that Frodo's skin, despite the deluge of  
frigid water poured upon it, was hot to the touch. Frodo had  
definitely caught a fever.  
  
"Frodo, Frodo, why did you have to be so stubborn?" Merry tutted in  
a gentle voice. "You must understand I had never meant for it to   
come to this. Wouldn't it have been easier to just admit that  
you knew who he was and that he was here to help you?"  
  
Frodo shook in silence. "Now, look at you, poor lad! You're hot and  
feverish."  
  
Merry sounded genuinely regretful.  
  
Frodo didn't say anything. He had almost lost consciousness.  
Merry kissed Frodo's knuckles as he cut the bonds around his  
wrists. He knelt down and did the same with the ropes at his  
ankles. Silently, Merry began to strip the cold wet clothes off of  
his quaking cousin.  
  
Frodo's shivers from the freezing cold were subsiding now that Merry  
was removing the layers of wet clothes. But the fever still made his  
mind blur and his head dizzy. Weakened and nauseous, Frodo could  
only collapse on the couch.  
  
Frodo roused from his swoon to find Merry pulling his arms out of  
his soaking wet shirt. At first he thought it was his mother. But  
then he remembered that his mother had died and left him behind,  
just like anyone else.  
  
...Everyone else except Merry.  
  
"Merry?" called Frodo faintly.  
  
"Hush, Frodo. Lie still," cooed Merry in a voice that was nearly  
maternal. "Let me pull these wet clothes off you. They will only   
make your condition worse. Luckily I still have my shirt ready in my  
backpack."  
  
Frodo gulped in appreciation. Despite Frodo's disobedience, Merry  
was clothing him in his own shirt. Merry pulled Frodo's limp arms  
through the sleves, and buttoned the shirt up with loving care.  
  
Frodo noticed that his bonds had been unfastened. They were of  
little use, anyway, when Frodo was too sick and frail to move.  
Frodo unconsciously rubbed his wrists that had been chafed by the  
ropes. Merry noticed. Smiling, Merry looked into Frodo's eyes,  
took his hands in his own, and began to rub and kiss the abused  
wrists. Frodo gasped, and smiled back. The smile of a child.  
  
Frodo sighed in great relief to find himself dry again. He shifted  
on the couch to find the most comfortable position for his battered  
body. Merry had left him for a moment for what reason Frodo didn't  
know.  
  
Pippin was now at his side, bring a cup of steaming hot tea to  
Frodo's shivering lips. Frodo closed his eyes. The tea tasted  
wonderful and it helped warm his body. He just hoped that this was  
not a dream.  
  
When Merry reappeared, he had several thick blankets in his hands.  
In the beginning Frodo refused to have him covered by the blankets  
because he felt hot already from his high temperature. But Merry  
insisted.  
  
"Don't be silly, cousin. You doubtlessly need these blankets to  
help you recover. Here you are. All right, done."  
  
Merry emphasized his motherly deed with a gentle ruffle of  
Frodo's wet curls and a loving pat.  
  
"That's a good boy." Frodo felt like a gift wrapped in those warm   
sheets. His head tilted a little. His voice swayed.  
  
"Am I really a good boy, Merry?" asked Frodo pleadingly. "Because  
I don't want to be a bad boy. Always a good boy, Merry."  
  
"Sure," Merry calmed him down, brushing Frodo's curls from his  
forehead. Frodo leaned onto Merry's hand needily, eyes shut. He  
felt unbelievably peaceful.  
  
"You shouldn't be stubborn again, Frodo, and make yourself suffer  
like that," added Merry.  
  
"Yes, Merry," Frodo sighed obediently, eyes still closed. Please, he  
pleaded silently, let me sleep now.  
  
# -- # -- #The room was eerily silent with the three inhabitants falling into a  
deep sleep. Frodo was the first to open his eyes. He was still a bit  
hazy and he felt uncomfortable because of his fever-induced sweat.  
In fact, he was soaked in sweat. But Frodo was sure that was not the  
reason why he had woken up. Voices. Right. Voices of people talking,  
right in front of the door.  
  
The voices grew louder now. Nervously, Frodo called Merry and Pippin  
softly so as not to be heard by those people. They might not be  
friendly.  
  
"What is it, Frodo?" Merry replied, a little upset.  
  
"I don't know," Frodo whispered. "I think there are some people  
outside."  
  
I'll check it out, Frodo, if it will make you fell better,"  
answered Merry.  
  
Merry didn't have to check the situation out, as there was a loud  
bang at the door at that very moment. Pippin, who was still asleep  
at the moment, jumped from his bed.  
  
"For goodness' sake!" he exclaimed. "Who is that?"  
  
Pip directly got his answer. Three ruffians from Isengard, who had  
worked hard to find a halfling, broke into the room after  
successfully tearing the door open by force.  
  
"HERE THEY ARE!!"  
  
What followed was a terrible chaos. Merry unsheathed his small  
dagger and bravely faced one of the Isengarders. Pippin climbed up  
the table and jumped on the other. Frodo grunted. He got up from the  
couch with great difficulty and tried to confront the last of the  
three. His movement was sluggish from his illness and because of the  
many blankets he wore. When he finally managed to free himself from  
the blankets, he was no match for the men.  
  
The hobbits were by no means in a good situation as the ruffians  
were twice their size, and brandished long and sharp swords.  
Daggers were useless. Frodo soon caught a sight of his two cousins  
being overpowered by the ruffians. He himself still tried to duck  
and dodge. But he was still terribly ill. A movement too slow and  
suddenly he was facing the tip of the sword. When he tried to run to  
the right, the man followed, and so did the sword.  
  
Frodo suddenly screamed. He choked when he realized what had just  
happened. Frodo had been stabbed, in the left side of his stomach.  
  
With a weak moan, Frodo staggered and fell limp to the floor.  
  
TBC 


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18  
  
"Hey! We don't want to kill that one!" cried one of the men. Merry  
  
and Pippin, who were held in the corner, looked at Frodo with terror.  
  
"Quick! Just leave these two here. We don't need them. We just need  
  
the fair one!"  
  
**********  
  
Roses. Red petals of roses were following them; Frodo thought as he  
  
was jostling about on Ted's right shoulder. Sometimes he even mumbled  
  
audibly, annoying Ted who would directly hush him silent. Strange  
  
indeed, but Frodo was awake despite his injury. At first he had been  
  
unconscious due to the unbearable pain from the stab wound. Then the  
  
pain somewhat diminished and replaced by nausea, and Frodo had come  
  
to. But now as Frodo lost more blood, he became weaker and weaker.  
  
He also began to lose touch with reality.   
  
The rose petals he saw with his half-closed eyes were really  
  
droplets of his own blood.  
  
Frodo felt like he had been carried around forever when the men  
  
suddenly stopped. Frodo recognized three figures of big horses  
  
waiting. He gasped. His mind went to the black-hooded ringwraiths  
  
that had chased him and the other hobbits back in the Shire. He was  
  
still staring at the beasts in terror when Ted lowered him down to  
  
the ground, none too gently. The impact knocked the breath out of  
  
Frodo and the stab wound pounded him with agony. Frodo clenched his  
  
eyes trying to will the pain away. For the time being he forgot about  
  
his fear of the innocent horses.  
  
Frodo pressed his hand hard on his left side. His blood was still  
  
flowing and his breaths were short. He let out a small cry. But when  
  
pinpricks on his cut flesh became more agonizing, the cry changed  
  
into a louder shriek. In the end he wailed loudly like a wounded  
  
animal, head thrown back. A man's fingers clamped over his mouth  
  
stifled his moans. His cry and breath suddenly caught, Frodo almost  
  
choked. He opened his eyes widely.  
  
"Let me go!" he let out a stifled scream. Frodo struggled hard to sit  
  
down while still clasping his bloody stomach, but he failed as the  
  
man clutched his face tightly.  
  
"Quiet!" growled the ruffian in Frodo's ear.  
  
Frodo stilled and yelped when another man roughly tugged his hands  
  
and bound them at the front. The hand on his mouth was lifted, only  
  
to be replaced with a piece of cloth which was tightly knotted at the  
  
back of Frodo's head. Frodo whimpered when his legs received a  
  
similar treatment. With cuts from Merry's beating still sending  
  
stinging pain to his shins, Frodo suffered even more.  
  
Ted squatted beside Frodo and checked the wound on his stomach.  
  
Completely terrified of the man, Frodo made a gurgling noise in his  
  
throat.  
  
"Don't be afraid, little one," mumbled Ted. "I just want to make sure  
  
the injury isn't serious."  
  
He unbuttoned Frodo's shirt, Merry's shirt actually, and glanced at  
  
the large red spot staining Frodo's milky white skin. Ted grimaced at  
  
the sight. The wound looked sickeningly bad.  
  
"This was a mistake. It was not meant to happen. We were supposed to  
  
take you safe and whole."  
  
Frodo didn't believe him a bit. He closed his eyes. Take him whole?  
  
To where? And 'whole' so that they would be sure he would feel all  
  
the pains they inflicted when he was being tortured later? Taking  
  
someone against his will, these men had to have an ill reason, if not  
  
many, behind their actions.  
  
Ted called one of his companions and asked him to bring him a bottle  
  
of liquor. Knowing what they would do to him, Frodo rebelled. He  
  
flailed his bound hands and planted his heels firmly, trying to move  
  
backward. He failed as there was still someone behind him. Frodo was  
  
kept still.  
  
"Relax," ordered Ted. "We don't want to do you more harm. This liquid  
  
is going to clean and dry your wound."  
  
With that Ted dampened a piece of dirty rag with the liquor. Frodo  
  
stared with terror. His body tensed as he waited for the cloth to  
  
make contact with his skin. And when that finally happened, Frodo  
  
jerked his legs very hard. The skin felt like it was being burned!  
  
A gagged sound of 'Noooooooooo!' didn't stop Ted. He still pressed  
  
the cloth over Frodo's wound and rubbed over it slowly. Frodo arched  
  
his back in agony, tears flowing down freely. Finally he could no  
  
longer stand the pain and sank into darkness.  
  
***  
  
For a moment, nobody moved, neither Merry nor Pippin. Then Pippin  
  
spoke, as if in a daze,  
  
"W-what was that about? Merry, who are they?"  
  
Merry shrugged. He, too, was still confused.  
  
A group of men suddenly attacked them and took Frodo away? Merry  
  
shook his head slowly. They couldn't just be typical robbers. Then  
  
without realizing what he was doing, his fingers crept into his  
  
pocket and took the ring out.  
  
"Pip," Merry called softly, lifting up the ring. "Is this what they  
  
wanted?"  
  
Pippin looked at Merry in shock. His jaw dropped open.  
  
"Cousin!" he screamed. "If they do, we can't let them have Frodo! We  
  
can't let them torture and force him to surrender what he doesn't  
  
have!"  
  
Poor Pip. He didn't realize the irony of his own words. Merry shot  
  
Pippin an unbelieving stare. He agreed that the ruffians couldn't  
  
have Frodo, though, for a completely different reason.  
  
"Pippin," started Merry. He paused for a second to put the ring back  
  
into his pocket after realizing his cousin couldn't wrench his eyes  
  
from it. He continued.  
  
Pippin, "We've got to hurry! Those men must be going on horses. We  
  
have to get ourselves a pony if we want to at least catch their  
  
trail."  
  
**************  
  
Frodo blinked his eyes. Everything seemed blurry at first but soon  
  
came into focus. Frodo moved a bit but froze altogether when  
  
realizing that he didn't lie on his back anymore. In fact, his legs,  
  
no longer tied down, were dangling from some height. Frodo panicked.  
  
With cloth still covering his mouth and cords still encircling his  
  
wrists, Frodo tried to jump down from wherever he was. His movement  
  
was stopped by a hand around his throat.  
  
"Uurgh," he groaned.  
  
"We're going to halt in a moment," whispered a voice in Frodo's  
  
ear. "Don't even try to escape as we're now deep in the wild. You  
  
will surely get lost and die."  
  
Frodo realized that, too, in despair. He could see now that he  
  
sat on one of the horses, in front of the ruffian. The ruffian, Ted,  
  
finally released Frodo's throat when he was convinced that the hobbit  
  
wouldn't make any foolish moves. But he pressed Frodo closer to his  
  
body. Frodo wriggled, forcing the man to stop the stroll and shake  
  
him with his two hands. Frodo's teeth rattled hard.  
  
"You're a hard-headed, eh?!" the ruffian yelled angrily. "Do you  
  
want to ride with Phil instead?" Ted grinned nastily. "You know, he's  
  
been eyeing you with lust ever since we laid our eyes on you days  
  
ago. But I don't think that's a good arrangement. You're much too  
  
pretty for him!"  
  
Now Ted couldn't hold back his laugh. It hurt Frodo's ears to  
  
listen to the horrible threat buried in the ruffian's last words.  
  
Frodo was also shocked to find out that he had been watched  
  
for 'days'. So, while being in Merry's clutches, some others wanted  
  
him, too? Frodo shuddered. What other evil things could the ring do  
  
to him?  
  
***********  
  
Something on the ground caught Strider's attention.  
  
"Sam, come here!" his voice was filled with urgency, making Sam, who  
  
was several steps behind, jerk and run toward the ranger.  
  
"Strider?"  
  
"Look at this," Strider pointed at several hard-to-recognize spots.  
  
They were brownish red. The man went to his knees and dipped his  
  
finger to one of the spots. It felt sticky! And when he brought his  
  
finger to his nose, it twitched to recognize, sickly, that it was  
  
blood.  
  
  
  
"Sam," Strider said slowly, not wanting to worry the hobbit. "Can  
  
this be Frodo's blood?"  
  
Hearing that, Sam grabbed Strider's shoulder so hard that the man  
  
winced.  
  
"Please no," Sam wailed. "It can't be!"  
  
"Relax, Sam," persuaded Strider. "It's only possible, all right?"  
  
He got up and looked around. He saw then that Sam and he were  
  
standing in front of an inn with the name The Black Stallion painted  
  
on its wall.  
  
TBC 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 - Separation Anxiety  
  
Ted's threat worked successfully on Frodo. He ceased his struggle  
  
and nervously glanced to the left and right, trying to find which  
  
one was Phil. Phil wasn't hard to spot, as he almost never released  
  
Frodo from his gaze.  
  
Hearing what Ted had said to the sweet little creature, Phil sent  
  
what he thought was his best smile. It looked more like a hungry  
  
wolf's grin, unfortunately, making Frodo look away in fright.  
  
Frustration washed over his face.  
  
Unfortunately, that was not what Phil saw. He thought it was an  
  
_expression of disgust. Feeling insulted, Phil jerked his reins,  
  
striding his horse in Frodo's direction.  
  
"Hey!" Phil shouted angrily. Frodo turned his head in horror.  
  
What---?  
  
"Why did you look at me that way, rat?!" You're disgusted with me,  
  
huh?" growled the man.  
  
Phil was now just inches away from Frodo, his eyes red from rage.  
  
"Mmmhh!" Frodo mumbled behind the gag, shaking his head frantically.  
  
Oh, no! Please! NO! NO!  
  
As Phil's horse came face to face with Ted's, Phil shot out his hand  
  
and yanked Frodo unceremoniously off his mount and slammed him down  
  
hard. Frodo let out a gagged shriek. His eyes widened.  
  
Frodo hit the ground with a thud. The fall dazed the hobbit. For a  
  
moment he lost track of where he was. He looked up blearily.  
  
Then slowly Frodo remembered his grim situation as he eyed the two  
  
ruffians on horseback staring at him. Frodo struggled up, still  
  
observing the men closely. They cruelly laughed at him as he winced  
  
and whimpered. But no longer when Frodo suddenly snatched the gag  
  
off his face.  
  
"Stupid rascal!" shouted Phil, jumping off his horse. He suspected  
  
Frodo's intention, which was completely true, to run away. Frodo  
  
screamed, more to his disappointment, when Phil knocked him down on  
  
his back.  
  
"Aaarghh!" Frodo swung his tied hands trying to hit Phil. But the  
  
man was faster. He caught them and with his other hand, he  
  
backhanded Frodo terrifyingly hard. The hobbit could hear a crack  
  
at his cheekbones. A tear escaped Frodo's eye involuntarily.  
  
"Ohh, it hurts!" Frodo sobbed, clamping his fists on his  
  
cheek. "Please--- " his voice quivered. He flinched when Phil raised  
  
his hand as if he were going to hit him again.  
  
"NO!" Frodo cried. "I'm not going to try to run again! I swear!"  
  
Having spent so much time in captivity and been abused for so long  
  
had completely broken his soul. He had lost his fighting spirit  
  
altogether.  
  
Frodo didn't say anything when Phil left him crumpled on the ground  
  
and dragged his horse to the nearest bushes. Ted also dismounted  
  
his horse, and walked the animal to the hiding place that Phil had  
  
chosen. They were going to hide the beasts the best they could among  
  
the foliage. The other ruffian followed them silently.  
  
"We'll rest here until the dawn comes. We'll continue our journey to  
  
Isengard the first thing in the morning."  
  
These words were of no comfort to the captive hobbit.  
  
***  
  
Pippin never knew a musing Merry. Merry had always been a hobbit of  
  
action: swimming, running, climbing trees, and wandering around  
  
farmer Maggot's field. He wasn't the kind that would keep silent for  
  
a long time doing nothing. Save that for Frodo.  
  
"Eh, Merry," called Pippin from behind.  
  
No reply. His cousin kept on walking as if he heard nothing.  
  
"Merry!" Louder this time. Pippin clawed his hand on Merry's  
  
shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"  
  
"Shut up, Pippin!" Merry yelled, just waving without turning  
  
around. He was clearly upset by Pippin disturbing the flow of his  
  
thoughts.  
  
Pippin went silent. He was a little annoyed by his cousin's  
  
inattentiveness.  
  
/Angry?/  
  
Pippin jerked backward. Who said that?  
  
/Don't be surprised. You know who I am./  
  
The hobbit nodded unconsciously.  
  
/It's about time you turn the table. You don't want to be ordered  
  
around all the time, do you?/  
  
Whoever said that, it was true. But Pippin was shaking all over. He  
  
looked around anxiously. He caught the sight of Merry now way ahead  
  
of him. Pippin recalled all the awful things they, Merry and he, had  
  
done to their cousin, Frodo. Merry had been too cruel to Frodo; now  
  
Pippin could see it clearly. And the twisted, evil Ring, the one who  
  
owned the sound, agreed with him, encouraging him 'to do' something  
  
about it.  
  
"Merry!" Pippin shouted, his voice harsh now. Pippin ran toward his  
  
cousin and - unexpectedly - and with unexpected strength, sent a  
  
hard blow to the back of Merry's head. Merry stumbled forward and  
  
fell.  
  
***  
  
Frodo couldn't believe his ears. Did the men really  
  
mention 'Isengrad'? Wasn't that the place where Gandalf had gone?   
  
Didn't Gandalf mention travelling to Isengard before --- Frodo's  
  
stomach clenched --- before the wizard had left him? He remembered  
  
again what his cousin, Merry, had said about how people always left  
  
him behind. All----except dear Merry. Thoughts of Merry flooded  
  
his mind. Oh-how he needed his Merry! He wanted to scream Merry's  
  
name from the treetops, but in his weakened state, all he managed  
  
was a soft whimper--  
  
"Merry, please help me."  
  
Merry. Merry. Merry. It had been such a peaceful time for Frodo  
  
before the ruffians came. Merry had untied his bonds, dressed him  
  
with care, kissed his hurts away, and wrapped him in a warm  
  
blanket. Frodo recalled the feel of Merry's warm, comforting hand  
  
grapped between his own -the wave of peace that washed over his  
  
soul Merry's smile of ..approval. Then, suddenly, the three  
  
ruffians broke down the door and tore him away. Frodo so regretted  
  
he had not seen the beauty of his Merry much sooner. Merry who was  
  
only there to help him. Merry -who, very reluctantly, had been  
  
forced to bind him and hurt him. Why had he not been obedient from  
  
the start? And now Merry was nowhere in sight. It hurt-this  
  
separation. If not for these cruel people, Frodo would still be in  
  
that warm room in bosom of his true family, his cousins.  
  
Frodo curled into a small ball on the ground, protecting his wounded  
  
stomach. Frodo's stomach was healing now; the tear in his soul was  
  
not. The night was getting darker. He didn't think about running  
  
away anymore - the trees looked more frightening in the dark, like  
  
giant, shady creatures that were ready to swallow him whole. Slowly  
  
he fell into slumber in the coldness of the night.  
  
***  
  
Three pairs of eyes were set on any movement Frodo made. Ted could  
  
see that the little hobbit was still in pain from the stabbing. He  
  
also noticed that Frodo's whole body had become a canvas for cuts  
  
and bruises of all sorts. The other hobbits must have tortured  
  
him. But to what purpose? Nor did Ted have any idea why Saruman  
  
wanted them to bring him a Shire halfling. Was it connected to the  
  
reason why this little one had been captured and tormented by the  
  
other two hobbits?  
  
While these thoughts of confusing and pity sifted through Ted's  
  
brain, Phil's thought were taking a darker turn. Phil still  
  
couldn't take his eyes off the diminutive creature. He had never  
  
seen anyone so adorable in his tormented form. All of the little  
  
one's features were just perfect; his ashen face, dazzling blue  
  
eyes - amazing to behold even - perhaps especially, when they were  
  
filled with terror.   
  
"Ted," Phil demanded softly. "Let me cuddle that pretty thing. He  
  
looks cold."  
  
"No!" snapped Ted. "I know what you have in mind. It is far from  
  
mere 'cuddling' that your after. Remember, the halfling must come  
  
unspoiled. The stab wound makes me worried enough. What do you think  
  
Saruman will say about what you have in mind?!"  
  
"Oh, come on. Look, his soft cheeks are waiting to be caressed and,  
  
hmm, I bet his smooth lips taste delicious!" Phil's eyes glittered.  
  
"Phil! That's enough!" ordered Ted. "Go and don't come back until  
  
your dirty mind cleanses itself!"  
  
Ted shoved his companion hard toward the forest. Phil bucked and  
  
turned around sharply to Frodo's direction.  
  
"Hey!" Phil yelled angrily. "Who are you to tell me what to do?  
  
Saruman won't find out, not if you don't say anything!"  
  
He ignored Ted completely and strode away. Phil approached Frodo's  
  
sleeping form, totally unaware of the threatening danger.  
  
TBC 


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Delusions of Gradeur "Pip," Merry moaned weakly when he regained his consciousness. "What have you done?" Merry rubbed the swollen part of his head slowly. It was painful and the touch made it worse. For a moment he felt a dizzying sensation and he slumped back to the tree that supported his body. He gave Pippin a questioning look as he caught the younger hobbit sobbing while going through the pockets of Merry's shirt, waistcoat, and breeches. "What is the matter with you?" "I'm sorry, Cousin," gasped Pippin. "But I have to take the ring from you. I must do right by Frodo. Please don't be mad at me," he begged." Merry's face changed from wonder to anger. "NO! It's mine!" he grasped Pippin's hands that were still roving at his pockets and tried to push them away. He was successful, or, no! It was Pippin himself who let go. Pippin straightened up, looking strangely taller, and glared down at Merry mockspat ingly. His voice did not seem to be his own. "Look at you!" spat Pippin. "Weak and hopeless. You can never fight me and win!" With that, Pippin moved back a little and kicked Merry hard in the chest. Merry held his breath, feeling both shock and pain surge through his torso. He couldn't breathe for a couple of seconds. With hitching breaths, Merry folded his arms and hugged them to his chest protectively. Pip wasn't satisfied yet. Merry could recover any minute. This time Pip directed his sturdy, hairy foot to Merry's face and struck him in the jaw. Merry was slammed back to the tree and was lost completely. Pippin grinned smugly and reached down to continue searching for the ring undisturbed. Finally, Pippin's small fingers found their sought after prize. His hand clawed around the ring. The touch of the cool metal sent shivers through his spine. He felt a surge of ..power? Pippin lifted the ring high in the air. A sinister gleam entered the once-laughing eyes. "Now!" Pippin thundered. "It finally becomes mine! No one will take it away from me!" And away flew all Pippin's concern and pity for Frodo. Away flew Pippin's desire to help his respectable cousin. These had been Pippin's only motives to disown Merry of the One Ring. But no longer. The purity of Pippin's motives disintegrated into the night air. The ring! It consumed Pippin's thoughts entirely. Nothing else was in Pippin's mind now but himself and his plan to conquer the world of the farmers. In the not-too-distant future, Pippin, that fool of a Took, would have all farmers bow down to him and bring him piles and piles of mushrooms everyday! Hmm, delicious! *** "Ugh!" Frodo's eyes snapped open when he felt a pair of hands jerk his legs from their former position, curled up and pressed to his upper body. "No!" A terrified Frodo cried out to find Phil looming over him. "I - wha-" His word was cut of harshly by a hand over his mouth. Frodo couldn't do anything, although he tried hard to pull the hand away with his tied ones. But even with his nails planted in the man's skin, he wasn't able to make Phil give up. The clamp became tighter and tighter, cutting the air supply to Frodo's lungs. Frodo thrashed as hard as he could, resulting only in the firmer clutch of his face and - now - body. He began to lose his consciousness as Phil dragged him away. Frodo could no longer struggle. Phil sadistically tugged the hobbit on his back, making him writhe in pain because of the small, sharp-edged stones and tiny twigs scraping his skin. Phil dragged Frodo behind the bush, not that the ruffian cared so much about privacy. He just wanted to make sure Frodo would not be able to escape easily while Phil was 'enjoying' him. Frodo then felt that the hand holding his body was no longer there and the one on his mouth somewhat loosened. He could breathe again now. Nothing to be thankful for, though, as he became aware of Phil's hands all over his body. Cruelly. Hungrily. The man took a knife to cut his leg bonds, not out of kindness.but so he could. Oh Eru, NO! Frodo shivered terribly. His eyes went wide with panic. Phil went feral. He took Frodo with all his might. Tears rolled down from Frodo's face onto the Isengarder's hand. "Shit!" cursed Phil. The wetness on his hand, proof the hobbit found him repulsive, angered him beyond words. Phil's actions became more desperate and violent. Frodo sobbed miserably. He felt so humiliated. In his panic, he gasped and panted hopelessly. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe -- - "Phil!" Ted's voice. "I won't let you lay your filthy hands on that little creature! It's my responsibility to bring him unharmed!" Frodo opened his eyes. Wasn't that too late already? Strangely, Frodo was able to breathe freely now. He also noticed that he was back to his previous place, cuddling up on the ground. His limbs were still bound, and he still wore his clothes. Yet he couldn't wonder too long as Phil was coming to his direction. "Ohhhh," Frodo sighed heavily and tried to get up, still dizzy from the sudden waking. But apart from that, he was all right save for the stab wound and other injury from days earlier. There were no signs of the violation he thought he had gotten from Phil just now. What was that? Was it just a dream? A horrible, terrifying dream he had because of the fear of what Phil might do to him? Was it a reflection of dark thoughts deep down in his subconscious mind? Had these formed themselves into a hellish nightmare. It seemed so real. Almost as real as his visions of his mother had been. What was happening to his mind? Frodo didn't know if he should be grateful because it was only a nightmare, or even more frightened because it could be realized any time now. Frodo's mind snapped back to reality when he suddenly heard a scream coming from someone in much pain. Frodo stared in alarm at the sight of Phil. Phil's eyes bulged out and his mouth, the source of the scream, was wide open. Frodo nearly jumped out of his skin. Caught! It was coming. The nightmare was coming! On the contrary. Phil seemed to freeze. The next second, Phil tumbled heavily to the ground - dead. A hilt of a dagger protruded from his back. TBC 


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21  
  
Carefully, Strider traced the footsteps on the ground. He was able  
  
to recognize two different hobbit steps, all starting from the inn  
  
towards the woods. Strider followed them silently with Sam  
  
following behind him in equal silence. Frodo's gardener was afraid  
  
that if he made any sounds, it would ruin the ranger's concentration.  
  
Sam jumped in surprise when Strider stopped with a grunt. He gazed  
  
at the man questioningly.  
  
"Why only one left?" Strider muttered to himself, unaware of his  
  
companion.  
  
"What?" Sam started. "You mean you saw two before and now only one?"  
  
Strider nodded.  
  
"Two hobbits?"  
  
Strider nodded again.  
  
"Yes. There are other steps here but they don't belong to a  
  
hobbit. It's easy for me to tell those of a hobbit from the ones of  
  
a man. A hobbit's steps are unique, and not too many here."  
  
That meant there had been only a small number of hobbits wandering  
  
around here and Sam was sure Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were among  
  
them. Sam scratched his head roughly, making the light brown curls  
  
go even more untidy.  
  
Why only two hobbits? And now just one? Shouldn't it be three?   
  
And whose steps were they? Sam wished desperately that those were  
  
his master's.  
  
***  
  
Frodo choked back his scream. Phil was dead! Ted had thrown the  
  
knife far from behind and it killed Phil at once. It seemed that  
  
Ted was dead serious when saying that Frodo had to be kept unhurt.   
  
Ted was also the one trying hard to cure Frodo's stab wound.   
  
Whatever came to him later in Isengard, Frodo was under Ted's  
  
protection for the time being. Frodo was sickened to think that he  
  
needed to be thankful for this. Yet, the sight of a dead man lying  
  
before his very eyes left him trembling violently.  
  
Frodo's knees grew weak and if not because of a pair of strong hands  
  
that held his upper arms from behind, he would have fallen down.   
  
Frodo panted severely and felt terribly ill. His mind went to the  
  
horrifying nightmare.  
  
"He could have killed you," said Ted slowly. "I know Phil. He was  
  
rude to whomever he was with, a lass or a lad. The fact that you  
  
are so fair and good looking only made everything worse."  
  
Ted shortened the distance between him and Frodo. The paled hobbit,  
  
forgetting his bonds, jerked back but fell back into the other man  
  
who was still clutching him. Frodo was terrified. Whatever Ted had  
  
said to persuade him, the man was capable of ending another man's  
  
life. Frodo couldn't decide which one was worse, a man who tortured  
  
another or a man who murdered someone else.  
  
"Why did you flinch?" growled Ted. "I'm NOT the one who was trying  
  
to hurt you!"  
  
"Leave me alone," Frodo struggled desperately. "Let me go!"  
  
"That's impossible, Frodo Baggins," hissed the man behind him in his  
  
ears.  
  
Frodo froze at the sound of his real name. Never had he revealed  
  
his real name to anyone since he was out of the Shire. But this man  
  
knew his complete name.  
  
Frodo tried hard to turn around and when he shot a glance at the  
  
man, he gasped in shock. How could it be? The man looked  
  
completely different from how he had looked just several minutes  
  
before. His dark, scruffy hair had become fair and long. The  
  
scraggly beard on his face was gone completely, now the face clean  
  
and shiny. And what more surprising were the clothes. His worn-out  
  
and shabby outfit had transformed to an elegant gray attire. Even  
  
Ted let his jaw drop widely.  
  
"Sar - Saruman?!" he exclaimed unbelievingly. "But I saw you in  
  
Isengard when I left years ago - with Phil and DAVID!"  
  
***  
  
After his initial, hysterical reaction of having been able to get a  
  
hold of the Ring, Pippin slowly went confused. All right, so, he  
  
got the Ring. The One Ring. The Ring of Power. Then what?   
  
Nothing seemed to happen or change. There was no lightning  
  
striking, or a noise rumbling from deep beneath the earth. Now, how  
  
could he know if he had become powerful or not?  
  
Pippin was strolling back towards the inn, fondling the Ring in his  
  
fist. It felt cold and distant yet smooth and soothing. But still  
  
nothing happened.  
  
"Why worry, little one? You have me."  
  
Suddenly Pip heard the voice again. He quivered, not because of  
  
fear but because of joy and excitement.  
  
"I am at your service, sir," added the voice.  
  
Pippin's eyes widened.  
  
"But how? I don't feel anything so far though I have the ring of  
  
power."  
  
"ARE YOU QUESTIONING MY POWER, LITTLE MASTER?!"  
  
The voice was thundering but still with a slight hint of  
  
tenderness. Pippin shrank back.  
  
"No! I'm terribly sorry! I didn't mean to -"  
  
"No need to apologize, my dear," cut the Ring softly. "Now, pray  
  
tell me your desire."  
  
Pip told it what he really wanted in the world. He tilted his head  
  
when he thought he heard a strange noise. It seemed like the Ring  
  
was chuckling to itself!  
  
"Hey!" Pip yelled angrily. "What is the matter with being a master  
  
of farmers?!"  
  
"Nothing, nothing," replied the Ring, still laughing merrily.  
  
TBC 


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22  
  
"I WAS in Isengard at that time!" smiled David-turned-to Saruman  
  
devilishly. "And it was David indeed, who set out from there with  
  
you and --" Saruman glanced briefly, disgustedly, at Phil's dead  
  
body. "That lustful, useless bastard. But," his grin grew  
  
wider. "I am here now although I am still in Isengard, too."  
  
He saw a total confusion in Ted's eyes. Saruman waved his right  
  
hand impatiently.  
  
"Hah! I know it is no use talking to men, especially someone like  
  
you. You won't understand!"  
  
Then he turned his attention to Frodo and sighed audibly.  
  
"I can see why Phil couldn't take his eyes off you. Gandalf was  
  
right. You do not have the looks of a normal hobbit! No other  
  
halflings have eyes as stunning as yours!"  
  
Frodo didn't heed Saruman's words except the word `Gandalf". He  
  
flushed with fury.  
  
"Gandalf?" Frodo squeaked. "Oh, I remember! He once mentioned your  
  
name, saying that you are his superior in the world of wizards. You  
  
know my name from him? Then what was the point of telling me to  
  
disguise myself?!"  
  
The outburst annoyed Saruman. He sent a stinging blow with the back  
  
of his hand to Frodo's face, sending the hobbit to the ground.  
  
"Watch your tongue! You hobbits are nothing compared to wizards!   
  
Learn to respect him!"  
  
The betrayed feeling in Frodo's heart overcame all the pains  
  
including the one coming from the slap.  
  
"Respect?" Frodo laughed gingerly. "For abandoning you, and worse,  
  
for revealing your name to the enemy? Maybe he is an enemy himself -  
  
--"  
  
Saruman might be evil but even he was startled to hear Frodo's  
  
bitter remarks. He made it sound as if Gandalf were an informer.   
  
But really, who cared? If the hobbit had a problem with his old  
  
friend and mentor, it was not something that need trouble Saruman.  
  
"So, you think he is an enemy, eh?" Saruman shrugged. "Think what  
  
you will. Anyway, I am not the one who is supposed to answer  
  
questions. You are!"   
  
He left Frodo lying there and pointed at Ted.  
  
"This man here doesn't know anything about the thing I want. What  
  
he cares about is bringing you back to Isengard alive and unspoiled."  
  
Ted shifted restlessly.  
  
"But - isn't that what you asked me to do?" stuttered him  
  
nervously. Saruman sneered.  
  
"Indeed! And you are doing well! I am happy you got rid of Phil.   
  
He was such a nuisance!"  
  
"Now Frodo," called the corrupted wizard, surprising the hobbit who  
  
was listening intently to the exchanges between Saruman and his  
  
servant. Frodo was hoping to just be left alone.  
  
"You know of what I speak. No, I am not asking you to give that  
  
thing to me right here, right now, because I realize the trinket's  
  
desire to return to its real master. No. I just want you to show  
  
me. You may still keep it until we arrive in Isengard. Not further  
  
than that, of course!"  
  
Saruman broke into laughter, this one sounding mean and even more  
  
devilish. Frodo cowered. What, then, would happen if he told him  
  
that he didn't have it, the Ring? Would this old powerful man  
  
decide just to kill him? Most probably. But again, that might be  
  
the best way out for Frodo.  
  
"WELL, FRODO??"  
  
Frodo was shaking at the menacing tone. Gone was the tiny bit of  
  
courage he had mustered over his fury at Gandalf a moment ago. But  
  
he was still trying to cover up his obvious fear.  
  
"I - even if I have it with me, I won't let you see it, let alone  
  
take it!" Frodo braced himself to suppress his feeling. Saruman  
  
clicked his tongue, amused by the futile effort this weak little  
  
creature made. He crouched beside Frodo's small frame.  
  
"You are very brave, but foolish," stated Saruman, observing Frodo  
  
closely.  
  
Frodo flinched. The intimidation inflicted by the much older and  
  
more experienced man was pure, and it left Frodo gasping for air he  
  
felt suddenly denied of him.  
  
"Even many of the big folks must admit their defeat to me in the  
  
end."  
  
Frodo felt like he was under a spell. His tongue was tied and his  
  
mind went blank. He couldn't say anything even if he had wanted  
  
to. The ring. He tried to think about it, to imagine it, to  
  
picture it in his head. But nothing. Nothing came to his mind. He  
  
just knew he had lost it somewhere but he couldn't remember. It was  
  
all so strange.  
  
"Is that true?!" Saruman roared. "You've lost it? You don't have  
  
it with you anymore?!"  
  
He reached out and gave a light pop with the heel of his hand at the  
  
base of Frodo's nose. Such a meaningless strike but it made Frodo  
  
gasp with surprise. The effect was almost deadly. Frodo heaved.   
  
Tears flowed down involuntarily due to the unbearable pain. He  
  
tried to bring his tied hands to his nose but they were held down by  
  
the wicked wizard. Finally Frodo could only gaze at Saruman  
  
defeatedly.  
  
"Are you going to kill me?" he asked faintly.  
  
Saruman didn't answer. He let go off Frodo's hands, whacked the  
  
back of the ring bearer's head, and got up.  
  
***  
  
"Let's go, Sam," encouraged Strider. "Quickly."  
  
Sam rubbed his teary eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.  
  
"Wait for me, Strider," he said chokingly. "Don't leave me behind."  
  
The man who had been steps ahead of Sam stopped in an instant and  
  
turned around.  
  
"I won't leave you behind, Sam. Don't worry," he replied.  
  
A tone of anxiety slipped out of his words.  
  
"Are you all right, Sam?" Strider realized that most of the time he  
  
forgot that Sam was still very young. This whole experience might  
  
have broken an older man since a long time ago. But not Sam. Even  
  
if he was afraid, he rarely showed it.  
  
"I'm fine," replied Sam quietly.  
  
They continued to the forest, not too far, though. Strider was  
  
still following the steps made by one of the three hobbits. He also  
  
noticed that the grass on the right side of the path all lay flat,  
  
as if someone - or something - had been dragged on and along them.  
  
Suddenly the ranger halted. Sam almost bumped into him.  
  
"What is it?" whispered Sam.  
  
"Look!" answered Strider, also in a whisper. He directed hi gaze to  
  
a tree standing straight from where they stood.  
  
"There's a hobbit under the tree!" cheered Sam and he fled before  
  
Strider had the chance to warn him not to rush. He himself still  
  
continued his quiet paces. But then he quickened a little bit while  
  
hoping that it would be Frodo, that the ring was with him, and that  
  
the fair hobbit was still alive.  
  
Vaguely he heard Sam calling.  
  
"What's keeping you, Strider? Come on!"  
  
TBC 


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23 (My birth date!)  
  
As he was eyeing the hobbit lying unconscious near the tree trunk, Sam could see again how this all started.  
He was barely able to hear the voices but he knew something terrible was happening at that time. He stared in horror at how Mr. Frodo was pushed roughly to a tree, making a loud thud when his back hit the tree. Sam remembered how he ran to his master to give some help. He still couldn't forgive himself why he had wandered too far apart from Frodo. Gandalf had warned him about the dangers his master would have to face. But how could he ever suspect Frodo's own cousin to be one of them? Sam shouted, telling Frodo that he was coming and telling Merry, who was holding Frodo, to get away. Sam couldn't believe his ears when Frodo told him that everything would be all right, and that he needed not to worry because it was just Merry. Just Merry, his cousin.  
  
But the skeptical Sam didn't fall as easily as that after what Merry had done earlier. It was just typical Frodo with his gentle heart, who still believed his own cousin would not do anything to cause him more harm.  
  
But then Sam saw, or rather, heard Frodo shouting his name as if he were trying to warn him something. What? What was he trying to say?  
  
There were sounds of steps when Sam was aware of his surroundings again. But he didn't have the chance to find out whose they were as everything suddenly went dark. The last thing he heard was Frodo's long, wailing scream calling his name.  
Sam didn't notice that Strider had stood beside him for a while. The man was holding his breathe.  
  
"I know him. It was this one with someone else whom I saw dragging Frodo out of the Pony."  
  
Sam turned around. His face looked contorted.  
  
"It had to be Pippin," he sighed heavily. "Did they torture him?" asked Sam more to himself. "Did Mr. Frodo suffer a lot? Does he still? Oh, Strider. I cannot stand it anymore. I have to find him, Strider, now! Or he will die ---"  
  
Strider hugged the little hobbit in a manner he would do to a little boy. His mind desperately searched for words to comfort him but he failed. Nothing seemed sufficient to make Sam feel better. Strider was realizing now how dear Frodo was to his gardener, more than to Gandalf. Or was it just the same?  
  
Suddenly Sam sent a harsh kick to the hobbit's shin.  
  
"Wake up, you devil! MISTER Merry!" He pronounced the title in a mocking tone. Merry stirred and slowly opened his eyes.  
  
Strider jumped and grabbed Sam.  
  
"Sam! Don't do that! We shouldn't do something like that!"  
  
"No!" Sam struggled to get free. "He had ill-treated my master! He has to pay for that!"  
  
"Be patient, Sam! He must pay for it but not like this."  
  
Sam panted. Realization slowly came to his mind.  
  
"Perhaps you're right, Strider. I'll just leave it to you then." Strider nodded.  
  
Blurrily Merry watched what was happening before him. And when everything became clear, his mouth went wide.  
  
"S - Sam?!" he said chokingly. "You were dead! Pippin has killed you!"  
  
"WHAT!" Sam burst out again. This time Strider wasn't able to hold him back. The gardener went to Merry and snatched his collar, jerking him up. "Pippin! Pippin was the one who hit me?!"  
  
Merry was still too stunned to answer.  
  
Sam slammed Merry to the tree, just like what Merry did to Frodo. Merry winced in pain. His chest was still hurt from Pippin's kick.  
  
"Right. It's hurt, isn't it? Now you can feel what Mr. Frodo felt at that time!"  
  
"So-" Merry gasped. "So you're not dead yet, Sam?"  
  
"No!" spat Sam. "No, not thanks to you! Now tell me where Mr. Frodo is!"  
  
***  
  
Saruman got Frodo propped against a tree and tied up at his waist. Frodo grimaced when Ted tightened the rope around his body and knotted it at the back of the tree. Promising to these men that he would not run away would be futile so Frodo kept quiet. He just tried to make an eye contact with Ted, desperately seeking for any sign of humanity in him in which Frodo could hold on to. He found none.  
  
Ted was observing the result of his work. Frodo wouldn't be able to move at all now. Even his legs were bound together at the ankles and knees. What a pity. Ted had actually grown to like this miserable creature. He didn't know why but since he first laid his eyes on him, he could feel how Frodo had suffered enough in the hands of his fellow hobbits. Ted hadn't wanted to add to his misery.  
  
But everything had changed when Saruman appeared. Ted recalled how his leader had degraded him with his words. Ted's face hardened. He would not allow that to happen again. From now on, there would only be him and his duty. There wouldn't be such thing like pity standing between them.  
  
Ted shoved a shred of bread through Frodo's diminutive lips. Surprised at this sudden intrusion, Frodo coughed and threw the bread out.  
  
"Eat!" snarled Ted, putting the bread back into Frodo's mouth. That really wasn't a problem for Frodo as he was actually very hungry. He chewed gratefully the pieces of bread fed by Ted.  
  
When it was all finished, Frodo gulped some water from the water skin and sighed satisfyingly. Watching this, Ted smiled in his heart. With his stomach full, the hobbit would surely fall to sleep any minute now.  
TBC 


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24  
  
Frodo's eyes jerked open. He silently cursed himself for how easily  
  
he could fall into sleep, just because he had a full stomach. This  
  
should not happen again! He should have stayed awake and tried to  
  
untie the ropes!  
  
Frodo looked around. The density of the forest and the cold mist  
  
engulfing the trees left almost nothing to see. Frodo could spot two  
  
dark figures sitting in a distance, though. He tried not to attract  
  
their attention. Quiet. Quiet.  
  
Frodo stretched his body slowly. These bonds had made him feel  
  
stiff. His back, especially. Now he was looking intently at the  
  
rope around his wrists. It was tight enough but not too much that it  
  
cut into the skin. He twisted his hands in and out, attempting to  
  
loosen it a bit. Not quite successful. Hmmm, if only he could open  
  
the knots -  
  
Frodo brought his hands to his mouth and wetted the knots for several  
  
minutes. If they were soaked enough, maybe he could finally untie  
  
them. Mmm, not enough. More. More. All right. Let's see. Give  
  
it a try. Now Frodo used his teeth. One. Two. Three. It was a lot  
  
more loosened now. Starting to give a little..And --- finally!   
  
Frodo gave a last tug and his hands broke free! He almost cheered to  
  
himself, but quickly bit his lower lip to hold in his silence. There  
  
was still a great deal to do if he really wanted to get free from the  
  
tree.  
  
Frodo rubbed his sore wrists and sweat-soaked forehead. His eyes  
  
glared wildly, looking for any signs of trouble. No. Nobody seemed to  
  
heed him.  
  
He was now turning his attention to his bound legs. Frodo groaned  
  
softly. Ankles and knees. This was going to be far more difficult.   
  
He decided to start with the knees.  
  
Probably this was the first time he was ever thankful for being  
  
smaller than men. It would be much harder to open the tie if his  
  
fingers were bigger. His tiny slender fingers moved easily among the  
  
knots and after several good minutes they successfully freed Frodo.  
  
Feeling high in spirit, Frodo did the same to his bound ankles.   
  
Thank Elbereth! How nice it felt to have all his limbs set free.  
  
Just one more to go. The rope on his waist. He just needed to turn  
  
it around so that the knot was on his stomach, and he would be able  
  
to undo it. How easy it sounded!  
  
"Uurgh!" Frodo moaned. The rope was too tight. It almost couldn't  
  
slither around. Had his stomach gotten bigger? Impossible.  
  
After some time, Frodo was able to move the cord to the front. In a   
  
relatively short time, he untied it! Somehow Frodo felt strange.   
  
The last effort was a bit too easy to do. Unfortunately, the  
  
excitement in his heart won over his rational mind.  
  
Frodo got up, moving as quietly as possible so as not to `disturb'  
  
the two men that were in the middle of a discussion. His heart  
  
pounded so heavily he was positive they would be able to hear it.  
  
He constantly kept his eyes on Saruman and Ted to make sure they  
  
didn't realize his disappearance and start the chase. He was still  
  
safe so far.  
  
Frodo crawled on his belly, slowly and silently. He did this for  
  
what seemed like hours-but was really only minutes. At last, he  
  
couldn't see his captors anymore. Now he dared himself to stand up  
  
and run. He was all sweat and burning lungs from too much running  
  
when he reached the clearing.  
  
Frodo had no idea where he was. He just decided to keep on walking.  
  
The forest now way behind him when Frodo saw something, or rather,  
  
someone, who made his eyes stare unbelievingly. He almost couldn't  
  
hold himself back. He was in the brink of tears of happiness when he  
  
saw the very `friend' of his. Frodo called out as loudly as his  
  
lungs allowed.  
  
"MEEERRRRYYYYY!!!"  
  
*******  
  
"Answer my question, Mr. Merry!" repeated Sam. "Where is Frodo?"  
  
Merry's eyes shone confusedly for a moment. Merry then raised his  
  
head and glanced at Sam, his grey eyes smiling wickedly.  
  
"Frodo?" laughed Merry cruelly, "Frodo! Don't you count on him,  
  
Sam. You were dead, remember, Sam? And you'll always be dead to  
  
him!"  
  
The words sounded like riddles to Sam, terrible cutting riddles. Sam  
  
released Merry's collar, letting him slump helplessly to the ground.  
  
"What are you saying?!" asked Sam slowly.  
  
"You will see," answered Merry evenly. "He's changed. He's no  
  
longer your sweet old Frodo."  
  
"Why? How?" Sam was utterly confused now.   
  
Merry didn't answer. Instead, he leapt up and shoved Sam hard. Sam  
  
reeled and fell on his rear. Sam grimaced. Merry ran.  
  
"Strider!" screamed Sam, "Don't let him run away!"  
  
The so-called order was hardly necessary as Strider had anticipated  
  
Merry's maneuver and grabbed the fleeing hobbit before Sam even  
  
finished his sentence. Strider lifted the struggling Hobbit to meet  
  
his piercing gaze.  
  
"Going somewhere?"  
  
Merry gave Strider a look that would shattered glass and spit in the  
  
Rangers face. Strider tried with much difficulty to keep his  
  
composure. He forced his burden to the ground face down and pinned  
  
him with the heel of his boot. Strider had to lean into the hobbits  
  
back with amazing force to immobilize him. Merry did not yield  
  
easily.  
  
The ranger had felt awkward at first because he had never fought  
  
anybody so much smaller than him before. But the feeling vanished  
  
after he listened to the conversation between Sam and this evil  
  
little creature. Merry's attack on Sam refreshed his memory of the  
  
despicable manner in which Merry had treated Frodo. These memories  
  
made his next action free from guilt.  
  
"Sam," Strider called in a no-nonsense tone, "Get me a length of  
  
rope from my sack."  
  
Sam eagerly, nearly gleefully handed Strider the rope. With that  
  
rope, Strider tied Merry's hands behind his back, just enough to  
  
restrain the corrupted hobbit, but not enough to cut into his  
  
wrists.   
  
"You will enjoy our hospitality until we locate Frodo," announced  
  
Strider. "Behave. I do not wish to bind your legs. Do you  
  
understand, Sir?"  
  
Merry nodded with understanding, but not submission. Satisfied,  
  
Strider pulled Merry back into a sitting position.   
  
Sam glanced at Merry's face and was terrified. Merry looked  
  
frighteningly different, as if he were possessed by something.  
  
"Frodo is not the same anymore," jeered Merry in a tone that belied  
  
his compromised position. "Not after the ring left him."  
  
Sam's eyes bulged out.  
  
"You took the ring from him?!" Suddenly Sam felt cold all  
  
over. "What have you done to him, you --- you---"  
  
Sam didn't even know what to call Merry. Sam sunk both hands into  
  
Merry's hair and yanked him into a standing position. Merry seemed  
  
to smile derisively at Sam. Sam answered the glare by lifting his  
  
knee and striking the offending hobbit roughly in the lower abdomen.  
  
Merry doubled over, gasping. Cruelty left his eyes and for a  
  
moment. For a fleeting instant, Sam felt he saw the real Merry  
  
coming through. But not for long. In seconds, Merry glared back at  
  
Sam with the eyes of a possessed thing.  
  
"I hope they will destroy Frodo and torture him to death!" yelled  
  
Merry in a menacing voice. "I hope he dies! It is because of him  
  
that I lost my RING!"  
  
TBC 


	25. Chapter 25

Warning: AU, violence  
  
Chapter 25  
  
Frodo saw his cousin turn his head around and look at him in wonder. Although Merry didn't say anything, Frodo didn't care. He sobbed. Relief washed over him.  
  
"Please help me, Merry. These men are mean. Don't let them lay their hands on me again!"  
  
Merry stood still quietly but his eyes were saying, 'Better me than them, right?'  
  
"Merry," breathed Frodo. "They want the ring. I didn't tell them anything about it. A cloud suddenly came over my mind. But I remember now. Do you still have it?"  
  
Merry stared at him angrily.  
  
"No! No! Don't be mad at me. Please!" Frodo added. He got panicky. "I won't tell them anything. I--"  
  
Suddenly Merry appeared to be about leaving. Frodo screamed desperately.  
  
"No! Merry, please! Don't go!" Would his cousin be just the same as any others - leaving him behind in the end? Frodo flailed his hands that were, spookily, tightly bound again.  
  
"Aaahhh!"  
  
What was happening? Why were all these ropes back?  
  
"Thank you, my dear hobbit. I know now with whom the ring is."  
  
That voice. Surrounding over the entire forest.  
  
Saruman? Frodo looked up, only to be met with a pair of wicked eyes that were full of satisfaction. Frodo wheezed in shock. He squirmed against his bonds, yet again. That was true. Besides his hands, his ankles, knees, and waist were also tied back, as if all that happened earlier never existed.  
  
Frodo struggled harder and harder. His mind searched frustratedly for any explanations for this. Was it just a dream? Impossible! Everything felt so real. And Merry - Merry was with him! Sweet Elbereth, please, please, please! Let the dream become a reality and let this nightmare be gone forever!  
  
Frodo thrashed about and tugged and moved his bound hands and legs to every direction. Jumping up, the white wizard cursed the stubborn captive.  
  
"Stupid hobbit!" And a harsh kick flew to Frodo's side. Frodo whimpered. A bruise would surely appear as the result later. But he didn't stop his struggle. He was too disappointed and angry to just sit still thinking about his situation.  
  
"How can it be! How can it be!" He shouted to no one in particular, and shot an accusing glance to Ted.  
  
"Thanks very much for the bread! If I hadn't eaten it, I wouldn't have gotten too full and fallen asleep that easily."  
  
Ted opened his mouth ready to defend himself. But he was stopped by Saruman's chuckle.  
  
"Amazing! Gandalf is right again. Hobbits are really amazing creatures. You blame yourself for getting too full and so on so you could have that nice dream?"  
  
Saruman looked at Frodo with genuine pity. The hobbit gazed back, trying to follow where Saruman was getting to.  
  
"Frodo my silly hobbit, has it ever crossed your mind that I am such a powerful wizard I can control someone else's mind?"  
  
Frodo was not the stupidest hobbit alive. He could see now Saruman's point. He just - it was just difficult to believe. Saruman engineered his dream from the very beginning?  
  
"That's true, my friend," the wizard interrupted.  
  
Frodo shifted in his bonds, surprised. There! The old man read his mind again.  
  
"I knew and watched everything in your dream, Frodo. I followed you. You strived with your ties. You slipped away. And you --" Saruman pointed at Frodo. "You said to your friend that you remembered the whereabouts of the ring!"  
  
Frodo shook his head in panic. Saruman couldn't make him go take Ted and himself to Merry. No!  
  
"So the ring is with the other hobbit," Saruman made sure. He then motioned Ted to come and untie Frodo. They were going to go right away! Frodo was almost hysterical. He would never surrender Merry to this renegade!  
  
"Ted, please!" pleaded Frodo. "You must help me! Merry is my only friend. I won't-"  
  
"Friend?" asked Ted as if Frodo was insane. "You were in terrible condition when I took you from the inn. It was because of him, wasn't it?" said Ted while releasing Frodo from the tree. But talking to Frodo this time was just like talking to a deaf post.  
  
"You can't say that! He is my friend, my protector! He is like a parent to me!"  
  
Saruman was getting impatient. He took a handful of Frodo's hair and tugged him up. Frodo screeched. His tied knees and ankles enabled him to stand properly so he was just hanging there helplessly, painfully, by his hair in Saruman's hand.  
  
"Cut out the nonsense about this FRIEND of yours! Just take us to him and we will let you go!"  
  
Will they? Frodo didn't believe him a bit. Cut his throat and leave him in the wild, that was more like it. Frodo realized that his life was hung by a thread. Yet, in this critical situation, Frodo's mind went back to his lovely dream. He regretted he didn't have a chance to hug Merry and let his cousin give him words of comfort. Frodo shut his eyes miserably.  
  
"Help me, Merry," he sobbed.  
  
"Then lead us to him!" growled Saruman.  
  
Frodo tried to shake his head, yet unsuccessfully. "Never!"  
  
"Oh, you will!"  
  
Getting more and more impatient, Saruman banged Frodo's head to the tree. Frodo heard a crack in the back of his head.  
  
"Ah! No, please!"  
  
"Come on, boy!" And another crack at the same place made Frodo waver. He let out short, gasping breaths. Sharp pains hit him and Saruman knew it would not be long before the hobbit collapsed.  
  
Saruman released his grasp on Frodo when he felt the poor being go limp.  
TBC 


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26 - Ringspell   
  
"Put it on, dear hobbit," goaded the ring. "Do not be hesitant. You  
  
said you wanted to conquer the world of - what? Ah, right. The world  
  
of the farmers. So, listen to my words. Put the ring on your finger.  
  
Now."  
  
Gently, the ring persuaded Pippin. It purred and cooed to the young  
  
hobbit to have its will granted. The ring certain had no intentions  
  
of helping Pip. It just ached to be visible to the Nazgul. It  
  
yearned for its master, Sauron, and promised the world to convince  
  
the simple hobbit to slip the ring on his diminutive finger.  
  
All the ring needed to do was make sure Pippin had it on his tiny  
  
finger, and the rest would be taken care of.  
  
Pippin caressed the ring gently.  
  
"So, this is how it works, just put it on?" asked Pippin in his  
  
small voice.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"And I will turn into the farmers' lord?"  
  
"Even before you realize it!"  
  
Pip kept on rubbing the gold band.  
  
"All right."  
  
The ring almost cheered happily, but -  
  
"But maybe later," said Pippin calmly. "Wait until we reach the  
  
Shire. There are not too many farmers here."  
  
The ring was silenced. It had been able to influence a mighty man  
  
such as Isildur so easily; yet, it couldn't beat this foolishly  
  
innocent creature. Shame, shame!  
  
"Why should you wait?" The ring gave another try. "Just put on the  
  
ring around your finger while we are here. You'll be in the Shire in  
  
an instant!"  
  
Pip couldn't hold back his laughter.  
  
"What do you think I am? A wizard? I don't have a flying broom to  
  
take me there!"  
  
The ring almost choked with amazement. Now, how could it respond to  
  
that? This hobbit was ridiculous, but he was not bending.  
  
Impatiently, the ring tried and tried. Pippin finally got upset. He  
  
snapped.  
  
"Quiet! Who is the master here? I own you, you know! It is up to me  
  
when and where I decide to put you on!"  
  
The ring recoiled. It had never guessed that this new master who  
  
looked so childish and frail could behave as if he were the most  
  
powerful man in the Middle Earth. Or had he already become one?  
  
In the end, the ring decided to seduce Pip later, when his  
  
corruption was more complete. That the hobbit loved to touch and  
  
fondle the ring was in itself encouraging.   
  
Pippin curled up and started to hum, completely ignoring his  
  
surroundings. He didn't realize that there were stares coming from  
  
two big folks.  
  
"He's been there for almost two days. I don't know who he is. I  
  
mean, I know some hobbit families here in Bree, the respectable  
  
ones. And he is not one of their children," mumbled one of them.  
  
They were standing not far from the ditch where Pippin was lying.  
  
The other one shook his head.  
  
"I pity him. He looks like someone who comes from a respectable  
  
family, too. If only he were less filthy."  
  
"You're right. But I think he's mad. He talks to himself all the  
  
time! And he's holding something. I wonder what it is."  
  
"Want to check it out?"  
  
*****  
  
Saruman didn't let Frodo rest longer. He shook the hobbit's body to  
  
awaken him. Then he slowly slipped a length of knotted rope through  
  
Frodo's head and tightened it around the neck, not too tightly so  
  
that it wouldn't suffocate him.  
  
Frodo started and tried to pull it free. He failed. The twisted  
  
wizard had his hands secured behind his back. The fair hobbit looked  
  
at the man wearily. His eyes began to get glassy. His head was still  
  
hurt from the previous impact. He fought hard not to cry.  
  
"Would you please take this off?" He moved his head to show what he  
  
meant. "I'll take you wherever you want, but I can't! I really  
  
can't! I didn't want to at first but I realize now that I don't know  
  
where Merry is. I was unconscious when you took me away." Frodo  
  
searched for Ted. The man was standing a bit far.  
  
Ted looked confused. He pitied this soft-looking halfling who seemed  
  
to be always in trouble. But it was impossible to help him. Saruman  
  
was too powerful. He wondered what would happen to him if he decided  
  
to go astray.  
  
Frodo realized that, too. Therefore he no longer begged openly. He  
  
just sent a silent plea through his dazed eyes.  
  
"I can't be more useful to you," added Frodo to Saruman. "I am  
  
without my ring and I don't know where it is." If Saruman wanted to  
  
kill him, so be it. He was exhausted, physically and mentally.  
  
"Oh, why are you so sad, Frodo Baggins?" Saruman asked  
  
mockingly. "You might be useless in that case -but you very well  
  
might not. At any rate, I can still see why I opt to keep you,  
  
Gandalf's dearest and priceless friend. He will do anything to get  
  
you back."  
  
Frodo squeezed his eyes shut. Gandalf's friend? Another lie. But he  
  
didn't say anything.  
  
Saruman tugged the rope, dragging Frodo up. Ted helped mount Frodo  
  
to Saruman's horse and coiled the rope to the saddle's horn,  
  
preventing Frodo from jumping down from the beast.  
  
The horse neighed softly when Saruman jumped on its back. Ted was  
  
on his own horse in an instant.  
  
Saruman reached out for the reign and steered it, turning back in  
  
Bree's direction. The wizard now knew that he would find the ring  
  
there.  
  
***  
  
Sam looked at Strider in despair.  
  
"He lost the ring. I couldn't care less about it, though." Sam  
  
sighed. "It is Mr. Frodo that I worry about."  
  
Merry's twisted lips that were once full of rage turned into a grin.  
  
"You still don't get it, do you, Sam? Frodo does not care about you  
  
anymore!" Merry turned his gaze to Strider. "And he could care  
  
less about you-Ranger! Frodo only mentioned you after one of his  
  
more difficult.lessons."  
  
Sam was upon the bound hobbit like a hawk in for the kill. He  
  
pulled Merry up by the collar and glared at him with fiery rage.  
  
"What..lessons, Devil! What did you do to Frodo?"  
  
Merry grinned widely-but it was a grin laced with blackened cruel  
  
mirth. He may have been bound, but he was back in control.  
  
Strider was quickly losing patience.  
  
"Speak, Halfling! This is not a game we will play. If you haven't  
  
yet noticed, you have no power over us!"   
  
Though Strider spoke the words with authority, he instantly knew  
  
them to be untrue. One look at the anguish that flooded Sam's face  
  
told him as much. Merry had faithful Sam wrapped around his every  
  
word. Strider has a sinking feeling that the next part of  
  
this "conversation" would not be pretty. And he was terribly right.  
  
"YOUR Frodo?" laughed Merry darkly. "Your Frodo thinks you are  
  
dead. Your Frodo belongs to ME now. If YOUR FRODO were here right  
  
now, he would come, begging and pleading to ME, with his child-like  
  
eyes, his submissive posture. He's my little pet now. Did you know  
  
he worships me-Sam? He thinks I am his ONLY friend!"  
  
"LIAR!" yelled Sam with a voice so loud it echoed through the  
  
trees. "You betrayed him terribly. Why should he make a friend out  
  
of the likes o' you?"  
  
Strider bit down hard on his lip trying to suppress his fury. If  
  
Sam were without a clue, Strider was not. The Ranger understood  
  
that that there were ways in which a person might be broken and  
  
reconstructed. The idea that this might have been done to poor  
  
Frodo made him nearly mindless with anger. Strider dreaded what was  
  
coming, and hoped beyond hope that Sam would just ask Merry to be  
  
silent.  
"Oh, Sam, chased Merry. "It wasn't hard. At first, of course, he  
  
was very angry and wholly uncooperative. Even attacked me, he did,  
  
when I took the ring from him. A strong punch he gave, right  
  
here." Merry pointed to his slightly bluish jaw. "And at that  
  
time, I don't think he really saw me as his friend."  
Sam smiled a little. "You earned that punch, Mr. Merry! Good ol'  
  
Mr. Frodo! He knows a snake when `e sees it! Look, here, Merry-  
  
Frodo doesn't see you as his friend!"   
Sam was so jubilant over the thought of Frodo socking Merry that he  
  
relaxed his hold on the smirking hobbit and let him slide back to  
  
the ground with a thud. But Merry was not done. He sat himself up  
  
upon his elbows to deliver the last crushing emotional blow.   
  
Strider's face darkened.  
"Oh, Sam! But he DOES. He does now. You see, you did not let me  
  
finish my tale." Merry was almost gleeful now. He has the stocky  
  
hobbit's full and undivided attention. Unbeknownst to him, he also  
  
had the ranger's.  
"After that show of .petulance, Pippin and I decided Frodo needed to  
  
be restrained. And, Sam-it was till two against one, and of course,  
  
the ring gave me that extra little.(Merry struggled for the perfect  
  
word)..boost. So bound up your master in a sheet and tied him to  
  
the bed so that we could go out for a well deserved pint-o-ale and  
  
so Frodo could have the time to think about his misbehavior without  
  
the distraction of his senses."  
  
"YOU DEVILS!" exclaimed Sam, as he grasped Merry by the collar  
  
again.  
  
"But somehow, dear Sam, your master managed to escape."  
  
Plunk! Sam dropped Merry, overcome with emotion.  
  
"Frodo escaped! He's free? Where---?"  
"No worries, faithful Sam!" continued Merry, clearly enjoying the  
  
tug he had on Sam's fragile emotional state. "We found him  
  
wandering about Bree, missing the sheet, but still bound. I suppose  
  
he was searching for you."  
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes as he envisioned his dear Frodo, cold,  
  
tied, calling out his name, alone, and scared. If only he had  
  
known!!!  
  
"But you didn't see him, did you SAM?" stabbed Merry.  
Sam began sobbing. HE was so devastated, he forgot to be enraged.  
"So he came back under our gentle care. We gave him refreshing tea  
  
with some special ingredients to help your poor master relax and get  
  
some sleep."  
Strider translated. "You drugged him."  
"If you must put it like that-yes, I suppose so," chirped  
  
Merry. "And we felt so underappreciated that we felt it best to put  
  
Frodo somewhere where he might, in time come to better appreciate  
  
us. So we housed him away from us in a dark barn outside of town.   
  
Only a few days without food in a pitch dark cellar did the trick!   
  
He called for us, Frodo. He came back to us as if we were candy.   
  
And seeing him subdued, we were kind, very Kind."   
If Sam was befuddled, Strider was not. Sam remained silent, taking  
  
in every sentence. Striders fists began ton involuntarily clinch.  
"We sat him down and spoon fed him applesauce, gave him all the  
  
water he could drink. And he thanked us, Sam. He thanked me with  
  
eyes that looked like those of a newly-adopted puppy. In that  
  
moment he saw me as not only a friend, but as a loving guardian!"   
"But he couldn't Merry!" exclaimed Sam in disbelief. "You were the  
  
one that starved him-that put him in that cruel barn!"  
"Poor naïve Sam. You still don't get it. I broke him. And when he  
  
still refused to tell me about the ring, I broke Frodo some more. I  
  
bound him to the chair so he couldn't move an inch, and blindfolded  
  
him, and from there led his mind in new and more useful directions.   
  
By the time I was done with that lesson, Sam, he was so broken he  
  
asked me to kill him, but I didn't, dear Sam. No-I took off the  
  
blindfold, kissed him, cajoled him, and asked only that he see me as  
  
a friend. But he was not yet utterly broken. Do you know whose  
  
name he called, Samwise? Can you guess?"  
Sam's eyes were big as saucers. Tears streamed down. He did not  
  
answer.   
"Yours. He called your name, Sam."  
Sam's breath hitched. And the tears kept falling. His expression  
  
bounced between horror and unrestrained joy.  
"But I couldn't have that, Sam. I needed him to tell me the secret  
  
of my new precious possession, and I knew he would not unless he was  
  
totally, completely mine. I needed him to see me, not YOU as his  
  
everything. So every time he called out your name, Sam-and he  
  
called it out A LOT, I took my belt and thrashed his legs. `Sam!  
  
Sam! Sam!' Merry imitated in a mocking voice."  
Sam could barely breathe through his anguish. Merry continued  
  
triumphantly.  
  
"He called your name so many times. I had to thrash his legs until  
  
they bled and bled and until he lost his grip on consciousness and  
  
blacked out. And when he awoke, he was utterly mine! He loved only  
  
me, his only friend. We took him in our arms then, Sam, and tried  
  
to feed him, as he sobbed and sobbed like a child. All thoughts of  
  
you, his dear Sam, were utterly banished. To Frodo, Sam, you are  
  
literally dead and- "  
Merry did not have the opportunity to finish his thought, as a pair  
  
of large hands fastened around his shirt collar.  
Strider had tried to be patient but he couldn't stand it anymore.   
  
He had fought a battle with his own fury and had lost. He grabbed  
  
the crumpled heap up, held Merry in place with his left hand, and  
  
struck him hard on the face with his right hand. At first Merry  
  
didn't feel anything on his cheek. He just felt sore all over his  
  
neck when his head was snapped to the right. But then the feeling  
  
came. Merry felt as if his left cheek were burning. Strider had  
  
slapped him with all his might.  
Now Merry almost couldn't stand the stinging pain. He sobbed. It was  
  
worsened by his inability to rub his cheek to lessen the hurt, not  
  
with his hands still tied behind his back.  
Strider's anger had not been totally quenched yet. He raised his  
  
right hand again. Merry went rigid to see it coming to him. And it  
  
did. Strider blew at exactly the same place as before, Merry's left  
  
cheek. The yet unhealed burn from the first strike cracked for the  
  
second time.  
  
Merry whimpered through his bleeding lips. He shivered. It was hard  
  
to tell that he was the same hobbit who had uttered the evil,  
  
mindless words about Sam's beloved master, Frodo. The blows degraded  
  
him to the lowest level of humanity. Sam could no longer see the  
  
pride in his eyes. Sam could only spot Merry, his old Mr. Merry,  
  
pained and broken, in his companion's hands.  
  
What would become of him later on, Sam thought.  
  
"Who has the ring now?" he demanded.  
  
Merry looked down and mumbled, "Pippin."  
  
Sam heaved disappointedly. And where was Pippin? That made the  
  
matters more complex. Were they going to look for Pippin with the  
  
ring, or Frodo? Thinking about his master again, Sam began to cry.  
  
TBC 


	27. Chapter 27

Warning: AU, heavy Frodo angst  
  
Chapter 27  
  
Frodo bowed as deeply as his head was allowed by the rope around his neck. He had never felt so low in his life. With bound hands and leashed neck, he felt like a person who had committed a crime and was now on his way to the shiriff's prison. He just wished they wouldn't meet anybody on their way.  
  
It was like when Merry had called him a mad man awhile ago. He was so embarrassed although that was, of course, not true. But suddenly the other half of his mind protested.  
  
'Merry has never called you that! He is your pal, isn't he?'  
  
It was debated by his sane mind. 'He has, you fool! You were blinded by his treacherous words!'  
  
Frodo's poisoned mind talked back, 'But it is true, isn't it, that Merry is the only one who cares for you? The others either leave you behind or do not do anything, like Ted here.' The childlike self glanced sideways to the man riding beside him, sadly. He rode so close and Frodo was sure there was kindness in his heart. Yet, he didn't do anything to save him.  
  
'Of course he won't help,' snapped the real Frodo. 'Ted is Saruman's man. He won't help you not because he doesn't care, but because his jobs demands him not to!'  
  
Frodo whimpered softly and shifted a little. That was misunderstood by the man behind him. Saruman thought Frodo was trying to do something. He jerked the rope, surprising the little hobbit.  
  
Feeling the leash tightened, Frodo let out a small, strangled sound. Saruman then released his grasp, and Frodo coughed terribly.  
  
"That will teach you!" The white-haired man snarled.  
  
"W-what?" asked Frodo hoarsely.  
  
"Quiet!" Saruman grabbed Frodo's hair. "Do you want me to cover your mouth AND your eyes, too?!" Oh, no! He wouldn't stand the dark! Frodo shook his head frantically despite Saruman's clutch.  
  
The man nodded satisfyingly although he knew the hobbit couldn't see him. He finally let go off Frodo.  
  
Ted observed the whole scene with a wrenched heart. What had happened? Why had Frodo acted strangely? He had suddenly sobbed without any particular reasons.  
  
Ted guessed something had suddenly troubled Frodo's mind.  
  
"My Lord," Ted dared himself to speak to Saruman. "Please. He doesn't look well."  
  
His words made everything still all of a sudden. Even the wind seemed to stop blowing. Frodo tensed. He was the closest to Saruman and he felt the man went completely rigid. Would he blow up in anger?  
  
"Who do you think you are, raising a voice like that against me?!" Saruman's voice sounded horrifyingly soft and low. Frodo shuddered.  
  
"Don't make you regret yourself, Ted. I won't do anything to you - yet," Saruman said threateningly. "But if you say just one more word, I'll make your favorite halfling here suffer!"  
  
Saruman didn't touch Frodo at all but chill washed over Frodo's heart. He stopped himself from thinking about Saruman's last statement. He didn't want to know what Saruman would do to him.  
  
Still, he felt warm to know that Ted had tried to stand up for him. But the child in Frodo found his new fear. What would Merry do to him if he found out there was someone else who cared for him? He should have always remembered that he belonged to Merry, no matter what.  
  
***  
  
They continued their journey in silence. Every once in a while Frodo looked up. He noticed that the sky was turning dark grey. Frodo was afraid it would rain soon. He wondered if these people were planning to make a camp that night.  
  
Suddenly a lightning struck. Soon it was followed by a thunder with its loud, cracking sound. Frodo gasped. He wasn't normally easily intimidated by a thunder. Not when he was safe at Bag End, in front of a warm fire.  
  
Another thunder cracked. The rain began to pour. At first Frodo thought they would stop at once. He was mistaken. Saruman simply fixed his hood and so did Ted. Frodo didn't have his cloak anymore. He only had Merry's shirt. Only in a short time, Frodo got soaked all over.  
  
He trembled heavily. The rain kept on falling and there was no sign Saruman would halt.  
  
"P - p - p - please--" Frodo stuttered. "Can we--"  
  
Saruman's reply was a tug on the rope. Frodo wavered. He almost fell from the horse. He shivered more violently. This was cold, freezing cold!  
  
Unconsciously, he snuggled to Saruman's chest. The wizard yelled and roughly pushed Frodo forward. He tumbled along the horse's hairy neck and went still. He was too dizzy to get up. His head felt terribly heavy.  
  
Ted shouted from afar.  
  
"My Lord! We must stop! The rain is too heavy. We can't let him be like that. He will die!"  
  
The gentle-hearted man dismounted his horse and half-ran to Saruman's horse while dragging his. He snatched the reign from Saruman, forcing the horse to stop.  
  
"Ted!" The wizard thundered. The man didn't care. He turned Frodo around so that he could loosen the knot and slip the rope from the hobbit's head. Then he went carry Frodo away. Saruman boiled with anger.  
  
"Don't do this, Ted! Or else!"  
  
"He's sick!" growled Ted, lowering Frodo down on the ground, in a place shady enough so it wasn't too wet.  
  
Frodo was barely awake. He wasn't aware of his surroundings, even his own chattering teeth. He felt so cold he got difficulty in breathing. Ted spread a blanket he took from his bag over the pale-faced creature; so pale the face turned yellowish and lips grayish blue.  
  
"Do not untie him!" shouted Saruman.  
  
Ted pouted his lips. It hadn't even crossed his mind. He just wanted to get Frodo warmed as soon as possible. He hadn't known hobbit race long enough to know anything about them and their resistance against bad weathers.  
  
Meanwhile the rain began to stop. Good, thought Ted. Now he could start a fire and fix something hot for Frodo. A bowl of warm soup would be perfect.  
  
Saruman couldn't believe his eyes seeing Ted started collecting small branches and arranged them neatly near Frodo's wrapped body. What would that jerk do this time? Make a fire? The man had to be insane! Who was Frodo so Ted thought he deserved such a treatment?  
  
Saruman's eyes widened when he looked at the pot, wooden spoon, fresh meat, and herbs Ted was taking out of his bag.  
  
"What is this! You are preparing him a meal?!"  
  
"Clever," mumbled Ted.  
  
"What did you say?" asked Saruman, terribly annoyed. When there was no reply from Ted, he added sharply,  
  
"He'll pay for this! Remember that. The hobbit shall pay for this. As for you, I'm sure something will be waiting in Isengard."  
  
Ted jumped up.  
  
"No, he won't! Frodo will not pay for anything. Leave him alone!"  
  
Saying nothing, Saruman turned around and left.  
TBC 


	28. Chapter 28

Niphrandl: Poor Frodo, but I can't help it! Will someone stop me? I can't do that alone, not with Elijah's pic on the cover of YM mag staring at me every time I go to bed!  
  
Andy'sPrincess: Wel, everything won't be normal again.  
  
Alisaundre: Sorry about the flying broom. I hope Pip grew up with that kind of story, too. :)  
  
LadyFoxFire: I think people might start looking for Frodo. But, mmm, that's if they start to get suspicious that something is wrong.  
  
Krista: A place I knew angst for the first time is Frodo's Fantasy () Have you been there?  
  
Aelfgifu: (blush!) Frodo with a hole in his head! OMG! Well, there will be twists but still long way to go.  
  
JohnLEnnonAcrosstheUniverse: How I wish I could play some musical instrument!  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
Chapter 28 (Lij's birth date! Never knew the story would go this far!)  
  
While waiting for the soup to boil, Ted decided to cut off the rope around Frodo's wrists. There. Frodo would surely feel better now.  
  
All through the days Ted felt bad about the bonds. He kept seeing Frodo as a small boy. Now, whispered Ted, you could rest more comfortably.  
  
Ted changed Frodo's lying position so now the hobbit lay completely on his back with his arms either at his side or on his chest. Ted smiled. Frodo looked better, too. He was still awfully pale but no longer yellowish. His shirt was still wet thanks to the rain. Yet Ted felt grateful for the rainwater had washed away the big red spot that was Frodo's blood. A reminder of his dead company, Phil's, stupidity. Ted could only hope that the stab wound didn't give Frodo anymore pain.  
  
The man tugged the blanket higher to Frodo's chin. Frodo was still asleep but he constantly frowned and moaned. He looked deeply troubled.  
  
No wonder, again Ted muttered inaudibly. The hobbit had gone through so many difficult situations in the last couple of days and who knew what else would happen to him if Saruman kept his words. Ted shuddered. He promised himself to do his best to keep that from happening. In a way, guilt started to grow in Ted. He couldn't deny that he, too, took part in all of this.  
  
Frodo stirred. His long, curly, dark eyelashes lifted up, revealing tired, blue eyes.  
  
"Sam?" Frodo whispered. But a second later those beautiful eyes glared in panic. No, of course it wasn't Sam! Don't be mad, please -  
  
"Merry?" he corrected himself.  
  
Confused, Ted stared at him. What was going on? Something had definitely disturbed this tiny creature's mind again, and it didn't come from either him or Saruman.  
  
"Ssh, Little one. What is it? Who is Sam? Who is Merry?"  
  
Panic flared in Frodo's eyes again. He tried to get up but a sudden attack of dizziness forced him to lie back.  
  
"No, not Sam. He's dead." He sobbed. "No more Sam. "I'm sorry, Merry."  
  
"Hey," snapped Ted, shaking Frodo gently on the shoulders. "I'm not Merry. It's me, Ted!"  
  
Ted? Oh, Frodo remembered now. This was Ted, the man who had defended him from Saruman, who had saved him from the rain, who had made him warm, and who had unfastened the ropes. He hardly knew, though, when Ted did all of those.  
  
Frodo smiled a smile so small one could think he was only imagining it. But he did, indeed, something that he hadn't done for what seemed like centuries.  
  
Frodo hadn't had any good reasons to do that before. But now he did. Ted had been so kind - no - 'kind' was probably too weak a word to illustrate whatever Ted had been doing to him. The warmth of Ted's blanket almost made Frodo feel like being at Bag End again - or better - being in his mother's cuddling--- The smile now cracked into sobs---  
  
Ted was stunned when Frodo's lip corners lifted up a bit. He never thought the hobbit would ever put his trust on him. The smile changed everything. But it also ruined everything; it ruined Frodo's effort to cover his weariness, despair, and loneliness. Oh, Elbereth! How he felt so weary ---  
  
Frodo broke down, crying silently on Ted's shoulder. Tears were flowing down freely, soaking the man's cape. Ted recalled the last time Frodo did this was when he had been stabbed. He also got Ted soaked at that time but with something stickier.  
  
Ted sighed. Frodo had much more reasons that could justify his weeping. Ted didn't try to hush him. He let Frodo pour down all his misery. He would probably feel better later. Ted even prayed THINGS would get better, too, for the hobbit. He might even be able to escape ---  
  
Ted froze when something crossed his mind. No, that was impossible! He wouldn't be able to do that. He COULDN'T possibly do that - not with that wicked wizard still gawking at Frodo and his direction like - like a devilish crow staring at its prey.  
  
Frodo sensed Ted's changed of behavior. He quickly drew back and turned away.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, still sobbing a little. "I'm sorry I acted like a child. I shouldn't have -"  
  
"Frodo," stopped Ted. "You have the right to do everything you want, including the thing you have just done. Life has been so cruel to you."  
  
Ted cursed himself for having rejected the idea of helping Frodo run away. Now he felt like a total jerk. He was worse than Saruman and the hobbits that had hurt Frodo. They, at least, didn't pretend to be nice to him. Or did they?  
  
"Halfling," called Ted. "Eat this - before it gets cold - I made it myself," he said haltingly while offering a bowl of soup to Frodo.  
  
Ted wasn't used to being friendly. His job required him not to. He also never knew love of parents or a family. He had grown up alone, a flower in the wild jungle that turned up to be wild, too.  
  
"This can warm you a bit, I hope." Ted smiled sheepishly. "Don't count on the taste too much, though. I'm not a good cook."  
  
As if struck by a lightning, Frodo broke his grips on Ted's blanket and yanked himself backward. His breaths grew short. So, was this why Ted had become so nice to him? The Isengarder wanted to make sure he would voluntarily swallow the entire drugged liquid for Saruman's later use? What - what else did they want to know from him? Frodo stared wildly at Ted with both hatred and desperation.  
  
In the mean time, Ted had no idea what was happening to the little hobbit. He went berserk out of the blue and now he was gazing at him like a trapped animal.  
  
"Frodo, what's going on? That's all right if you don't want the meat. But please have the broth. It's warm. It is good for your body." Ted kneeled closer to the terrified hobbit.  
  
"Stay away!" screamed Frodo. "Do you think I will fall for the second time?!"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ted became more and more bewildered. But he was getting impatient, too. He took a spoonful of soup, put the bowl down, and brought it to Frodo's mouth.  
  
"I will make you eat the soup one way or another, Frodo! You are sick and you will die if nothing gets into your stomach."  
  
"Aaaahhh!" Frodo was about to jump up but Ted grabbed his wrist and held him down. "Let me go! I will surely die anyway. Your soup -"  
  
"What about it?!"  
  
"Please," Frodo cringed from Ted's strong grip. "The soup - the drug - whatever you put into it. What do you want from me?" He realized he couldn't fight the man that was twice as big as him. His struggled weakened.  
  
Meanwhile, from the place where he was sitting, Saruman was observing what was happening to Frodo and Ted. A weird, evil smile formed in his lips.  
  
"Drug?" Ted was beginning to see. "As in the bread? But Frodo, even I didn't know it had been more than just usual bread. I swear I didn't know anything about that. Besides, Saruman doesn't need to visibly put anything into something like that, or ask me to help him do it."  
  
Frodo was silent. Could he trust his man? After all the man had done before, maybe he could.  
  
Time passed slowly as Frodo considered and reconsidered whether or not he was going to believe Ted. He shivered slightly.  
  
Ted fixed the blanket spontaneously.  
  
"You're cold. Come. Let me help you with the soup?" Ted laughed nervously.  
  
At last, Frodo gave up. Ted did seem nice. He had also never intentionally hurt Frodo. He even saved him from Ted.  
  
The first spoonful went smoothly down Frodo's throat. It felt nice. Warm and comforting. At the same time, he also didn't detect any foul magic in it.  
  
Frodo had finished almost half of the portion when he felt something strange in the stomach. He ignored that at first. But he couldn't anymore as the feeling eventually turned into a searing pain.  
  
"OH!" It felt as if his stomach were squashed inside. Frodo lay flat on his back, sometimes arching it and throwing his head to the back.  
  
"Ted - help me," he pleaded, out of breath. His body was soaked all over with sweat. "What hap - pened?" His voice was becoming fainter and fainter. Frodo was fading into oblivion.  
  
Ted was shocked with the halfling's sudden fit. Had he again caused his agony? Then without realizing it, he turned to the pot where he boiled the soup.  
  
"For Eru's sake!" Ted started. The soup was now full of small, squirming snakes and other tiny but poisonous animals Ted thought better not to know the names.  
TBC  
AN: Sorrrry! Again, no Merry, Pip, Sam, or Strider. I'm running out of energy just writing this. 


	29. Chapter 29

Blue Jedi Hobbit: Oh, no! I'm not that good as an author. I'm not even an author yet! I keep stumbling on writing. But still, thanks for your review!  
  
Aelfgifu: Frodo deserves what he gets?? Oh, you're mean! :)  
  
Warning: AU, violence  
  
Chapter 29  
  
Merry clenched his eyes tightly. It had been hours since he was left tied down to a tree. Nobody, neither Sam nor Strider, had treated him badly at first. But that changed after Merry told them he really didn't know the whereabouts of the person they were looking for, Frodo.  
  
He had been lying on the ground, crushed and beaten down, after those slaps. He then told them about the ruffians and how they had broken into the room where he, Pippin, and Frodo had been staying. They were sleeping at that time, Merry told Sam.  
  
"Sleeping?" said Sam as if to himself. "So Mr. Frodo was all right?" Tears were threatening to spill out. He had come to believe his master was tormented and starved. But it turned out that Frodo was staying the night in a room, warm, full, and sleeping peacefully.  
  
Sam was so thankful he was almost hysterical with joy. How he had been worrying so far ---  
  
"Yes, we were all sleeping tightly, including your beloved master. Of course after all the lessons I had to give him, he was too exhausted to stay awake," commented Merry.  
  
Feeling like just being kicked in the stomach, Sam looked unbelievingly at the sneering creature in front of him. He couldn't believe that. Merry had to ruin everything, his happiness and relief toward Frodo's condition. Sam felt his temper raise suddenly.  
  
Red eyed, Sam approached Merry.  
  
"Lessons? What lessons?"  
  
Merry grinned evilly.  
  
"What? You cannot expect someone who took Bilbo's ring could walk away just like that," snorted Merry.  
  
"Took? Walk away? Frodo INHERITED that ring! And he was supposed to bring it to a safer place other than the Shire. The enemy has started to pursue it. Remember the menacing riders on their gigantic beasts? You were asking that at that time, Merry. And this is the answer!"  
  
Merry laughed mockingly.  
  
"How can you be so naïve as to believe it easily that Frodo was going to such a place? Don't! He might have decided to bring the ring to somewhere else and use it for himself."  
  
What a nonsense. Sam refused to take in anything Merry had told him. But Merry sharply added,  
  
"And who is 'the enemy'that tried to take the ring away from him? Sam - come on. I know you love your master more than anything in Middle Earth. But don't let that block you from seeing the truth. I know loyalty and love often prevent people to see it. Especially the servants. They tend to always believe in their master and follow everything he says."  
  
That touched a sensitive spot in Sam's heart. Merry had spoken as if he were Frodo's slave who had no mind of his own. The words also successfully made him regret ever being born into his family - a family of servants! His father had always been Bilbo's gardener and his mother helped clean Bag End and cook for Bilbo and Frodo. So it was understandable that Sam became Frodo's gardener.  
  
But hey, regret! Regret? Sam felt guilty at once. It had never crossed his mind before. He loved his family, for Valar's sake! He loved his father, his mother, and all his siblings. He wouldn't want to exchange them with any other families in the Shire. He didn't care what his family did or what they were. What evil mind had come to him just now! He shouldn't have let Merry poison his thoughts. Was it the same thing Merry had done to Mr. Frodo, poisoning his mind? Sam felt giddy to think about it.  
  
But what else was it that Merry had said? It was something about Sam's being loyal, too loyal, to his master so that he would do whatever Mr. Frodo told him to. Merry ridiculed him as being a fool!  
  
An image of Frodo with his soft smile came to his mind. Ah, Merry could say whatever he wanted to say, but to Frodo, Sam was more than just a gardener. Sam knew that. Mr. Frodo always referred him as his best friend.  
  
Suddenly Sam felt he missed Frodo a lot. It had been too long since Merry took him away. Sam didn't care if his dear master saw him differently. He just wanted Frodo to return.  
  
"It's all because of you!" Sam reached down and snatched Merry's chin, jerking the twisted hobbit's head back.  
  
"I knew from the very beginning that you and Pippin are untrustworthy. Both of you are pure thieves!" Sam remembered their encounter at Farmer Maggot's corn field.  
  
"No more than your Mr. Frodo."  
  
Sam pulled his hand. He squinted at Merry.  
  
"It won't work, Merry. I'm not a brainless servant. I will not follow your word game. It is YOU who will follow my game. You will stay put thinking about whatever you have done to your own cousin, repenting it!"  
  
Helped by Strider, Sam secured Merry to a tree with a good length of rope. Smirks left Merry's face as he was being tied up. He tried to look at Strider's eyes, who had been silent so far. The man felt a bit guilty after beating the hobbit down and Merry knew this.  
  
"Ranger-" he tried to draw Strider's attention but his plea was cut off when Sam thrusted a cloth inside his mouth and kept it there by tying another length of cloth over Merry's lips around the head. After making sure that Merry couldn't move at all, Sam and Strider left him.  
  
Unexpectedly, big rain started to pour. Nobody had an idea to release Merry. He was left there, tied and soaked all over. Merry tried to call out but his voice was overcome by the rain. In the end, he could only gasp desperately against the attack of water, struggling to breathe, like a fish that was wriggling at the side of a river.  
  
***  
  
"I told you he would pay."  
  
Ted turned around sharply to meet a pair of cold, dark eyes of Saruman. Ted screamed, both in anger and despair.  
  
"Release him! Release him from the evil magic! He is innocent. He has done nothing wrong!"  
  
"Oh yes, he has. Or rather, YOU have! You keep your hard head against me, and Frodo will suffer more!"  
  
Ted blew up. Taking a long branch from the gound, he swung it to Saruman's direction. It swept over empty air as the wizard skillfully ducked.  
  
Saruman pointed his right forefinger at Frodo and a heart-wrenching scream from the hobbit's lips tore the night. Frodo arched his back until his body was half-lifted from the ground, and smashed it back. His eyes were tightly shut. He was still unconscious.  
  
"Stop it!" Ted shrieked and ran to Frodo. The branch slipped off his grip. He scooped up the awfully light and limp form and started to dash away. Oh, he had to be hurry. He should find anyone who could get rid of the magic. Anyone.  
  
"Hang on, Little one," Ted whispered. "Fight it if you can."  
  
"You are not going anywhere!" Saruman thundered. "You are not going to defy me again --- or else!"  
  
Ted tensed, frozen in his place. He knew Saruman could do mean things even from a distance.  
  
"Don't," asked him faintly, his jaw tightening. This was all beyond his reach. He felt completely helpless and humiliated at the same time, being forced to do what he didn't want to do.  
  
Frodo groaned slightly.  
  
"Put him down," commanded the wizard. Ted gazed at him doubtfully.  
  
"What? You want to try me again?"  
  
There was nothing Ted could do but comply. He lowered Frodo on the ground but stayed close. Saruman clicked his tounge impatiently.  
  
"Get away from there."  
  
"What are you going to do?" Ted demanded. Saruman ignored him. The wizard walked to Frodo and pushed Ted cruelly from the hobbit's side.  
TBC 


	30. Chapter 30

CleopatraVII: Welcome back! Thanks to you, too, for the reviews. They are really the ones encouraging me to keep writing!  
  
Niphrandl: Someone is going to saveFrodo, but who? Keep on reading, please! :)  
  
aelfgifu: You are extraordinary! I've never thought my awful first story can inspire you so much. Shall we write comics together? :)  
  
Alisaundre: Oh, no! I'm no feeling drained. I'm just - me. People say you are what you write. So, here I am, a gloomy person! And your comment on how Ted reacted, well, it just came to my mind that a person with that kind of job doesn't usually show his affection. But still there is kindness in his heart. I want to believe this kind of person does exist.  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: I know. I should be ashamed of myself. But Frodo is really beautiful when he is tormented! :P  
  
AndysPrincess: He will get better, don't worry. But, will he?  
  
JohnLennonAcrossTheUniverse: I'm afraid you still have to wait for Frodo- Sam reunion. Hmm - shall I say, it will be in chapter 40?  
Warning: AU, angst  
Chapter 30  
Frodo's eyes jerked open. A touch that felt more like a shock on his forehead woke him up. Saruman's palm felt hot on his skin. Alarmed, he got up and backed away using his heels and elbows to push his body up.  
  
But he soon staggered. Dizziness struck him and a feeling of nausea toppled him over. Frodo felt terribly, terribly awful.  
  
"What happened?" he came with the same question, asking faintly. His eyes got watery from pain and fear. "Was it something I ate?"  
  
"Want to know what you really had?" Smiling devilishly, Saruman scooped a bowl of soup from the pot, clear soup with nothing in it, and poured it down to the ground. Suddenly snakes and many other reptiles were emerging. They were all squirming there, hissing.  
  
Frodo looked at them with a complete shock. It was hard to believe his own eyes. He panted. Nausea hit him again and he threw himself to his side.  
  
Frodo let out whatever stayed in his stomach. He heaved heavily and soon what was left was just liquid. With his sleeve, Frodo wiped away tears that were rolling down without his realizing it. He kept bowing down, afraid that he would still want to vomit.  
  
Snakes! He had heard from his Uncle Bilbo and the books he read about how dangerous they were. Some of them had deadly poison, and Frodo was sure these ones did. And if the poison reached the heard ---  
  
Suddenly Frodo clutched his chest. It hurt and he started to have difficulty in breathing. Frodo opened his mouth wide as if that would help him trap the air and bring them to his lungs. But he was still gasping from lack of air.  
  
His hands clenched harder. Frodo turned to Saruman.  
  
"H - h - h - hel-" he pleaded unsuccessfully.  
  
Doing nothing, the wizard turned his glance to Ted. The man's face was blue with fear. He didn't dare to move.  
  
"You can promise me not to do anything to him anymore, not even a word to him. Or I can just leave him like this and let him die here, slowly and painfully."  
  
Ted balled his fists on his sides. What a coward Saruman was, forcing his power over someone else using another as weak and small as Frodo! Ted was one of Saruman's men but he would rather have another job than something like this. He stared at Frodo's writhing form and knew the longer he kept his stubbornness the longer was Frodo in pain. Ted sighed frustratedly.  
  
"Release him from the pain," he finally said, weakly.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" teased Saruman.  
  
"I said, don't let him suffer anymore!!" Ted shouted, and turned around.  
  
He wouldn't be able to face Frodo anymore. He was a man with no pride. He couldn't fight what needed to be fought for. But Frodo should understand, too. It was no simple thing to fight a magic guru, especially a twisted one.  
  
Saruman smirked satisfyingly and with a snap of fingers, gone were all the snakes, scorpions, spiders, and other disgusting creatures from the pot and the ground. Frodo felt air rushing down his lungs and his heart was no longer in pain. All the dizziness and nauseated feelings vanished, too. Frodo once again took a long, deep breath. It was so unnerving to be so close to death.  
  
Frodo's eyes went around looking for Ted. The man had been up on his horse again, completely avoiding eye contact with Frodo.  
  
Frodo was about to get up, intending to go to Ted, but a pair of strong hands yanked his arms backward. He felt his hands were being tied again. Back to square one. He didn't have the chance to struggle, being too surprised and stunned.  
  
"Now nobody will come and help you, halfling," growled Saruman. "Ted has realized that he is actually the one who has tortured you. None of these things were supposed to happen had he not done anything in the first place."  
  
Frodo opened his mouth to shout out his objection but the words never came out as a piece of black cloth was spread over his face, clamping over both his eyes and mouth, and knotted tightly at the back of his head. The sound of breath being caught was heard faintly.  
  
***  
  
The Breelanders were ready to jump into the dirty sewer when they saw something - no - when they saw nothing!  
  
"Look! He's gone!"  
  
Unaware of things happening around him, Pippin continued talking to the ring and at some point, he decided to do what was asked.  
  
"All right, all right. I'll put you on, but you must know that I do this because I want it myself and not because of you, understand?"  
  
In his mind, Pippin saw the ring bowing down to him, its new master. Then he slipped the heavy gold trinket around his short, sturdy finger. Pippin didn't realize that he was now invisible to his world. What he knew was that everything suddenly became fuzzy.  
  
The ring cheered happily.  
  
"I'm going home! I'm going home!"  
  
Pippin went dizzy for a moment; then he got upset.  
  
"Where is it? Where are the people - the farmers - that will assure my supply of mushrooms everyday?!"  
  
The ring laughed joyfully.  
  
"Be patient, my little master. They will come in a flash. In fact, there are here now!" It was a different 'they' the ring was referring to. Pippin turned around and saw the nine black riders coming towards them. They were the ones chasing him, Frodo, Sam, and Merry!  
  
"Noo!" Pippin wailed with his small but high-pitched voice. He crawled out of the ditch and ran to the opposite side.  
  
"You are lying to me!" accused him sharply to the ring. Desperate, he snapped the ring off his finger.  
  
"You are trying to deceive me but you fail! I will never, ever, want to have anything to do with you anymore."  
  
The ring was silent. That was so close. The nazguls had been able to spot their location. But with the ring off the hobbit's finger, those ringwraiths couldn't feel it anymore.  
  
"I will look for Merry and return you to him. Only he knows what to do."  
  
The ring couldn't agree more. The other hobbit, the one having it before this, did know what to do. He understood exactly how to use its power to himself.  
  
It was unlike the previous one, the fairest hobbit. When the ring was in his clutches, it savored the idlest moment. Perhaps it was the same with when it was in the hands of the hobbit's much older cousin, Bilbo.  
  
***  
  
"Sam?" called Merry, shivering. He was half awake and half fainting. The rain had stopped, leaving him as damp as he had never imagined.  
  
Sam had come to him as soon as it stopped and started to unfasten the ropes and gag, trembling, too.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Merry. I don't know what came into me. I should have set you free and let you fins some shelter from the rain!" His hands fumbled with the knots, making him even more difficult to open them.  
  
"Sam, let me help you," said Strider gently from behind. Sam looked at him thankfully.  
  
In a moment, Merry was already propped down on the ground.  
  
"Do you want me to change your clothes, Mr. Merry?" asked Sam to the feverish Merry. The hobbit shook his head.  
  
"I'm fine. I'll be all right. A blanket will be nice."  
  
Sam wanted to argue but Merry looked at him straight in the eye, telling silently that he would really mind being in the care of someone who had hurt him previously. An irony to things he had done before but he seemed not to remember them at all.  
  
Sam gave up. He laid Merry down on a piece of thick blanket, Strider's, and covered him with another. He and Strider let Merry sleep for a while while they prepared something to eat.  
  
Merry had been fast asleep, or got unconscious, Sam wasn't sure, for about two hours, when he suddenly opened his eyes. He looked almost fully recovered but his eyes were still a bit cloudy.  
  
"Do you need anything, Mr. Merry?" inquired Sam. Merry nodded, blushing.  
  
"I have to - you know," he said, smiling a little. Ah, Sam chuckled comprehensively.  
  
"But you have to go a little bit far," Sam pointed at some bushes in a distance. "You want me to accompany you? You are still not well, Mr. Merry."  
  
Merry snapped.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous! I'm all right now and I - it's a private thing, you know."  
  
Sam shrugged and continued stirring his meal in the pot.  
  
"Up to you, Mr. Merry. Just be careful, and shout if you need anything!"  
  
Merry slipped out of his warm blankets and walked slowly to the bushes. He didn't know standing up made him feel slightly dizzier.  
  
Soon Sam totally forgot about Merry as he busied himself with his cooking.  
  
"Luckily, I have three plates," said Strider, approaching Sam moments later. "They are perfect for us, you, Merry, and me."  
  
Merry? Sam held his breath suddenly. Where was he? The last time Sam knew was he went to do his business, and he hadn't come back until now!  
  
"S - Strider," Sam stuttered. "Merry was in the bushes over there to - to - but he hasn't got back here yet."  
  
"WHAT!" Strider ran there and went to the back of the bush, only to find nothing. He raced back to Sam, who was standing up with a spoon in his hand.  
  
"Is he still there?" his face paled. "I'm so sorry, Stri-"  
  
"Stupid hobbit!" barked the ranger furiously. "Now, what if he gets to Frodo before us?! Come on! Forget about that silly meal of yours!"  
TBC 


	31. Chapter 31

Niphrandl: Go Merry!  
  
Krista: Uh, (grin nervously, scratch an unitchy head) how many chapters? Honestly I thought it would be no more than 7 or 8. But with the plots I have in my head, I'm lucky if I can finish the story in 40 chapters. Umm, I guess. I don't know.  
  
Alisaundre: What I mean by the saying is that the way you write reflects on how you really are. I guess I can never write a humorous story. I wrote some short stories and all of them have a kind of contemplating mood. I think I should learn on how to write different genres. About Ted, the reason why he liked Frodo might not be explicitly stated. I just wrote something about how Ted saw all of this as a mere duty. His job was to take Frodo to Isengard. Period. So there was no point in being rude to the hobbit. Ted also noticed Frodo's bad condition when he kidnapped Frodo from the inn. He pitied the hobbit, I guess. And you know what, your comments on Ted gives me an idea. What if I write a story about Ted, his background and all? But, can I post the story here?  
  
Aelfgifu: I don't plan to have Sam meet Frodo either. But who knows? About the pics, I haven't checked the groups again. Maybe tomorrow. Thanks anyway!  
Warning: AU, violence  
Chapter 31  
Pippin ran as fast as his legs could bring him. He gazed back every now and then, making sure that the black riders were not following him. Relieved, he took a breath when realizing that they weren't. Apparently they only appeared when he wore the ring.  
  
Poor Pip. He didn't know that although he couldn't see those ringwraiths, it didn't mean that they stopped chasing him. Having had a clear sign from Pippin earlier, those menacing black figures could track the ring down more easily. It was a matter of minutes before they reached Bree.  
  
Once, doubts engulfed the little hobbit. If he ran to the woods, chances were he would soon meet those nazguls. But he had to go there to find Merry. He just hoped that the forest was so dense that the black riders couldn't spot him.  
  
Pippin stopped to control his panting breaths. He had got so tired but Merry was nowhere in sight. He looked around, and saw a house not far from there. At first he couldn't tell if the house belonged to a man or a hobbit.  
  
He cracked to a big grin a moment later when seeing a healthy-looking pony in front of the house. So this belonged to a hobbit, then.  
  
Pippin sneaked forward, only moving when he was sure no one was looking. In fact, nobody seemed to be present. Feeling relieved when finally getting to the pony, he released it from the leash and tugged the reins a bit to check its condition. It seemed fine. Pippin decided to lead it a bit farther from the house before getting onto it.  
  
Wow! What would his father say should the old hobbit see him now? A Took stole a pony! Yet Pippin didn't care. Those ringwraiths - his cousin Merry would know what to do with them.  
  
Pippin mounted the pony and jerked the reins. With a kick on its side, it jumped and dashed forward.  
  
***  
  
The neighing sound of a horse woke Merry up. He blinked several times, unsure of where he was and whether what he had just heard was real. A horse? Whose horse?  
  
Some time ago, when realizing that Sam didn't pay attention to him anymore, Merry decided that it was the best time to escape. He saw that Strider was also busy with himself. The man seemed to fully trust Sam about this Merry- keeping matter.  
  
Merry smiled widely to himself when he was crawling away from the bush.  
  
"What a stupid hobbit! All he thinks about is just food, food, and food!" he muttered.  
  
But remembering the food Sam was cooking made his stomach growl. He was terribly hungry, and now that he realized it, he began to shake. He felt dizzy from the lack of nutrition but he pushed himself to keep moving. Merry managed to get away a bit farther. Still, nothing could stop him from falling over when everything suddenly became dark.  
  
Coming back from unconsciousness, Merry opened his eyes widely, wondering about the horse. Neither Sam nor Strider rode one. And it was impossible for the two to go back to Bree to fetch some horses and be back here in such a short time. Merry shrank himself behind a big tree and spied at who was coming.  
  
He held his breath when the animal turned up with someone on its back. It was actually not a horse at all. A pony - with a hobbit!  
  
Merry's jaw went open when recognizing who it was. Pippin! No - really??  
  
He recoiled even further before he was completely sure it was really his cousin, Pippin.  
  
Deep anger was boiling in him. How dare did he show up after what he had done! He had to pay for taking the ring from him!  
  
Merry waited patiently. When the pony got closer - only about five meters from where he was hiding - the hobbit jumped out and shrieked right in front of the pony's nose.  
  
Frenzied, the pony jolted up, standing only with its hind legs. Pippin screamed in surprise. Lucky he was still clutching at the leather cord so he wasn't thrown to the back.  
  
- only to be thrown to the front! The impatient and raged Merry grabbed Pippin's leg and pulled as hard as possible.  
  
Pip yelped. He never suspected that.  
  
The next thing he knew was he was flying into the air and landing hard on his belly on the ground, knocking the air out of him.  
  
The younger hobbit never got a chance to speak as half a second later he felt a sturdy foot kicked him hard at his side. Pippin gasped. A tear rolled down his cheek. He tried to get up but the same foot that had caught his side before was on his back now, pressing him down.  
  
"Merry," he whimpered. Why was it happening? He had raced his pony as fast as he could so he was able to find Merry quickly. But when he did find Merry -  
  
"Be silent!" Merry roared. "What are you going to do this time? Kill me? Where is the ring?!" He pressed Pippin harder. The hobbit moaned weakly.  
  
"Please." He almost couldn't breathe.  
  
Merry lifted his foot, but now he reached out and tugged back a handful of Pip's curly hair.  
  
"What? What do you want to say?" barked Merry.  
  
"I - " Pippin spoke with great difficulty. " - want to return it."  
  
Merry slammed Pip's head to the ground.  
  
"Return it? Liar!"  
  
Pip got up slowly, trying to crawl away. He was afraid any movement he made would enrage Merry more.  
  
"No! I swear!" He fished into his pocket and handed the thing to his cousin. "Take it."  
  
Merry snatched the ring with an unbelievable speed.  
  
"My Ring! You come back!" He didn't bother in the least why Pip decided to do this absurd thing. He thought nobody would voluntarily give the ring away.  
  
***  
  
Saruman didn't want to delay his journey anymore. He had been upset enough by Ted's defiance, Frodo's constantly bad condition, and the rain. Now after settling the problem with Ted, Saruman thought nothing else would come between him and the ring. With more carefree feeling, Saruman flew his huge horse to Bree.  
  
On the contrary, Frodo felt more and more terrified. To suppress his feeling, he held his breath and shut his already-covered eyes tightly. Riding was one of his hobbies. But Bilbo had never had his pony run this fast.  
  
Moreover, Saruman had refastened a rope around his neck, this time even with shorter cord and tighter knot which tightened itself with every bounce of the horse's trot. Apparently the wizard wanted to make sure he wouldn't fall, thought Frodo bitterly. Anyway, it wouldn't be a nice experience - falling down. He was so small, making the distance to the ground even bigger.  
  
The horse jerked again. Frodo sobbed softly. He was getting more afraid with the whole situation. In addition to the pain in his strangled neck and throat, he felt disoriented due to the blindfold.  
  
There was nothing else he wanted now but a piece of light. This total darkness had once made him frantically turn his head to the left and right, as if by doing that he could find the desperately needed light. When he still couldn't find it, he got panicked. His breaths grew shorter. He was shaking all over. And he let out small choking noises as his screams were restrained by the cloth.  
TBC 


	32. Chapter 32

"This world is never meant for one as beautiful as you."  
  
Starry, Starry Night - Josh Groban  
  
AN: Krista, you're kidding! Reviews are the nicest thing on earth to read. They mean a lot for every writer, me unexceptionally. Just like what you said, aelfgifu. Emma, I read those writings in the group and I like them very much! Ha, I have an idea. Let me put it there, okay? But maybe later after the chapter is put there. Yep, the hobbits are going somewhere. Not to Barad Dur or Orthanc (yet), but to a place you know but in a situation you've never guessed! (smirk devilishly) I saw FOTR again today and got more and more in love with the characters! Alisaundre, I hope you're not upset after reading this chapter. (oops, no spoiler intended!) BTW, I remember someone asking about Frodo POV ---  
  
Warning: AU, angst, violence  
Chapter 32  
Frodo POV  
I feel fingers nudge me from behind and I twitch. I remember the horrors this man has caused, even without touching me. Strange though, his touch this time is able to distract me from my panicky feeling.  
  
But that is only for a short while. My panic comes back. A lump forms in my throat, threatening to spill out. I fight it will all my strength. I cannot even open my mouth! I can die choked by my own vomit.  
  
Oh sweet Elbereth. It's getting more and more difficult to breath. I feel my chest go up and down, hitching at every attempt to draw in some air. I can't give up now. If I let myself pass out, I will surely --- die.  
  
Suddenly I feel things around me change. I'm still short of air but it is not as dark anymore. And I think - this is the bizarre thing - I am under water. God, no! Has Saruman decided to drown me now? Please, no!  
  
He promised me to bring me to Gandalf! Although the wizard - well, whatever! I don't care if he has abandoned me before. I just need a reason to stay alive and for Saruman to let me live.  
  
Waves sweep around me. I shudder. It feels so cold. Then I think I see two figures down there at the bottom of the - river? I move my free arms and in a second I'm beside one of them.  
  
It looks like a hobbit's body, lying face down. I reach out and turn the body around. I almost scream out when I see the face!  
  
It is mama!  
  
Hastily, I turn around the other body. My guess is right. Papa!  
  
Ohh. I'm overwhelmed. Are they still alive? I have to get them out of here.  
  
With a powerful force I don't know I possess, I drag them to the surface. One by one I pull the bodies up and rest them on the riverbank. I pull myself out of the water and run to them. Oh, I just realize that I'm a teenager again. I'm back to the time when my father and mother tragically drowned.  
  
I squat beside my mother and feel her pulse. My eyes widen. Her pulse is there, though faint! What does it mean? What does it mean!?  
  
"Ma - ma---" I stammer at my speech, too stunned by the possibility of ---  
  
What should I do now? What do I have to do to bring my parents back?  
  
I pump at my mother's chest. I don't know if it's the right thing to do. I just want her to breathe again. One - two, and it helps! My effort does help! My mother starts to convulse and suddenly she is coughing hard, throwing water out. Then another miracle happens. She opens her eyes!  
  
"Mama!" I call her out. This is such an unimaginable situation. I have lived my life all this time without her, experiencing the most severe time, and suddenly, I'm thrown back the time and I find my mother alive! A tear trickles on my cheek.  
  
"Frodo?" calls my mother weakly. "Why are you crying, child?"  
  
Oh, how I miss that soft and gentle voice. How I have been dreaming about this. I still can't believe it.  
  
"Mama, you're here with me again." My voice is unbelievably small.  
  
"Of course, I am, love. You know I won't leave you alone."  
  
I nod frantically. So Merry has been lying so far. Mama has never left me and never will.  
  
I turn to papa.  
  
"Have to wake papa now," I say to my mother. She nods and smiles sweetly. My heart melts at once.  
  
"Yes, you have to, Frodo. Quickly."  
  
So I do the same thing to papa what I did mama. He also opens his eyes not long after that, and he smiles, too. The smile that is always capable of making me feel safe and protected. Oh, this must be heaven. This is too good to be true.  
  
"Frodo, my boy," my father caresses me on my cheek. I lean in to him, crying freely.  
  
"Frodo-" My mother's surprised tone catches my attention. I turn to her immediately.  
  
"Sorry mama. I'm so happy I - " But a warning sign in her eyes makes my body stiffen. I turn around.  
  
Someone else is standing behind me. This young hobbit resembles Merry, my cousin who's still a little child. But they really look alike. This hobbit is just the bigger version of my cousin.  
  
He has a paddle in his hands.  
  
"Do I know you?" I wail.  
  
He doesn't answer me. What really shocks me is that he swings his paddle to my direction.  
  
And it smashes hard on the side of my head. I have no chance even to scream. The blow successfully sends me back to the darkness.  
(end of Frodo POV)  
"Merry," Pip clawed at his older cousin. "Have you ever tried it? I have, Merry."  
  
"What?" Merry seemed like just waking up from his sleep. "What did you say? Try what? The ring?"  
  
Pip nodded.  
  
"It was strange, Merry. Everything went fuzzy and -"  
  
Merry's face went pale with fury but he tried to suppress it.  
  
"Don't you dare doing it again, Pip!" he warned. "It's mine!" Pippin looked at him frightfully.  
  
"No, I won't, Merry. But cousin, in the vision I got when wearing the ring, I saw them again!"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The black riders!"  
  
Pip was expecting Merry to look surprised or scared. But he was wrong. His cousin was laughing!  
  
"So what if they come? They won't do anything! They can't do anything!" blurted Merry.  
  
Pippin gazed at him confusedly.  
  
"But Frodo - he ran away from them at that time."  
  
"Ah," Merry waved his hand. "Your weak cousin Frodo? Of course he would run. He's never strong, isn't he, Pip? Can you imagine? He's been given the biggest opportunity to conquer the whole Middle Earth! And what was he doing? Running away like a coward!"  
  
Pippin stood silently. He half agreed with Merry. But some parts of his brain told him that there was something wrong with the concept Merry just elaborated. Who was actually strong, and who was weak?  
  
"Do you understand, Pip? No? Oh, I know this is difficult for you. Anyway, I see that you get yourself a pony. Now, we'd better hurry. We've got to get to Frodo."  
  
"But why?" Pippin asked incomprehensively. "You have the ring, Merry. You can go back to the Shire and do what you want to do."  
  
"Fool!" snapped Merry. "I have bigger plans than just the Shire. What can the place give me? Nothing! Just a bunch of silly people with their crops!"  
  
***  
  
A rough grasp on Frodo's shoulder sent him back to reality. A more bitter and frustrating reality. A world where everything was black. Frodo tossed his had back and whimpered in despair. Saruman noticed that the layer was wet.  
  
"Ah, have you been crying, halfling? So pathetic. While I thought you are unconscious all this time."  
  
Frodo had also just realized that he had been awake so far. So, what did the thing with his mama, papa, and Merry mean?  
  
He was afraid of himself now. Had he been hallucinating? Had his mind just wandered around to a different world?  
  
Frodo heard Saruman laughed a little.  
  
"Ted!" he shouted. "Your pretty little hobbit here has gone mad!"  
  
Never ceasing his riding, Ted forced himself to keep his mouth shut. Whatever his reply was would give Frodo more misery.  
  
Suddenly there was a whooshing sound and Ted screamed in pain. He went stiff and fell off his horse heavily.  
  
"Ted??" Saruman was surprised, too. He then saw an arrow sticking out from Ted's back.  
  
Then there was another hissing sound.  
  
"Ahhh!!"  
  
This time it was himself. But Saruman didn't want to fall alone. During his falling, he grabbed Frodo, so the hobbit was also flying down from the horse. But while Saruman successfully landed on the ground, Frodo's body was held back in the neck. He couldn't reach the ground as the horse was so big and he was so small and the rope leashing his neck was so short. So there he was now, hanging and strangled by the cord. His free legs kicked to every direction, fighting desperately to free his body.  
TBC 


	33. Chapter 33

AN: Dearest readers, you don't know how I treasure the moments I'm reading your reviews. Thank you so much guys!  
  
Chapter 33  
  
Frodo caught the whooshing and hissing sounds, too. He couldn't register at first what sounds they were. But when he heard Ted grunt in the distance, he realized that they were being attacked. Another dose of panic was added to his mind. He couldn't stand it anymore. He started to thrash around. He didn't care with the cord trapping his neck. He could be their next target.  
  
Frodo held his breath hearing the wizard behind him howl. He froze. What if Saruman died? Would he finally go free? Frodo desperately wanted to be able to see who came after them.  
  
Then he felt the man start to slide down the horse - taking him along! Frodo jerked, but he couldn't do anything while his hands were still bound behind him. He felt himself sliding, too, and then - snap! His movement was stopped by the leash. His eyes bulged out behind the cover. Oh, it hurt!  
  
This was he most terrifying way to die, Frodo thought. He remembered his parents again. It had never crossed his mind that he was going to die in the same way.  
  
The knot got tighter and Frodo felt his windpipe no longer deliver the much- needed air. This was even worse than when he got panic because of the dark.  
  
His mind and lungs screamed for help, and Frodo gradually drifted into the deep abyss of unconsciousness.  
  
The whole episode was not missed by four pair of eyes. The first two pairs belonged to two hobbits. Merry and Pippin.  
  
They had been speeding on their pony - if it could be called speeding at all - when they heard hooves of bigger horses coming. They stopped their ride at once and hid behind the bush.  
  
Merry recognized Frodo immediately although the face was covered by a black scarf. Merry was also recognizing Ted. But he didn't know the man behind Frodo.  
  
He was thinking on how to take Frodo from the men when arrows started flying. Gasping, he grabbed Pip quickly to get lower.  
  
Both of the men fell and went stiff. They seemed to die at once. But Frodo - oh, no! He was left hanging there, kicking and struggling, and then went still. Pippin had almost jumped out but Merry snatched him. He saw that the third party, the ones having the other pairs of eyes, was there first.  
  
"Mr. Frodo!" screamed Sam, running hastily to his unmoving master. Strider followed him from behind with this bow and an arrow ready in his hands. He went to Saruman and kicked the wizard, making sure that he was really dead. He winced to see how Sam hugged Frodo's legs and tried hard to push them up to lessen the impact of the strangle.  
  
"Sam - Sam, stay put. Keep pushing up. I'll free Frodo's neck."  
  
Strider worked fast but carefully. First he untied the rope from the saddle's horn. Sam heaved, feeling his burden suddenly become heavier. Strider immediately offered his hands, grabbing Frodo's upper body.  
  
Slowly, both of them put Frodo on the ground. Then Strider unfastened the knot behind Frodo's head and unlooped the cord from the head. He glanced at Sam briefly, wondering if Sam was ready to accept the fact - whether or not Frodo was still alive.  
  
"You don't have to see it, Sam," Strider said softly a moment before he opened the blindfold. Sam looked up, weeping already.  
  
"No, Strider. I have to know - I have to be the first to know if Mr. Frodo is all right - or not." Sam's heartbreaking voice almost made Strider cry, too.  
  
Strider turned Frodo's head to the side, and cursing at how tight the knot was, untied it. He lifted the black scarf, uncovering the face he hardly knew but loved directly. Frodo's face looked thinner, much thinner than when he saw it some time ago at Prancing Pony. Other things were just as pathetic. There were dark circles under the closed eyes and the soft lips looked bluish. Shadows of old bruises could be recognized on his pale cheeks. But still the hobbit looked incredibly beautiful, if not more beautiful. Yet, there was one thing that made Strider almost jump with joy. Frodo was still breathing.  
  
***  
  
Gandalf felt the tower shake a bit. It was his nth night for him to be held on the top of Orthanc by Saruman. He couldn't guess what his used-to-be mentor was doing now but he could sense that something unpleasant had come upon him.  
  
It wasn't merely 'unpleasant'. It was horrible! Saruman had just received news about the death of the 'other him', and now he was enraged, furious, and, fuming with anger. He roared and bellowed in his tower until it quaked.  
  
The palantir showed him all and it kept showing him what was happening next. He had seen how Strider's arrow struck his other's body and then how the ranger successfully helped the little hafling. And he still hadn't got the ring!  
  
"Mugwort! Come here!"  
  
Bent down, an orc came stumbling up the stairs.  
  
"Master," he said softly. His master didn't look to be in his best day. He didn't want to be the one to vent the anger.  
  
"How are the uruk hais?"  
  
"We're in progress, Master!"  
  
"How many?"  
  
"Can't say how many yet. Sorry, master."  
  
"Hmm." Saruman thought hard. Even if the uruk hais were ready, they were too slow to be able to reach the forest where the ring bearer was in time. He had to try another way. Ah! He snapped his fingers.  
  
"The wargs! Send the wargs with the best riders you've got!"  
  
Nodding comprehensively after the clear instructions were given, Mugwort left.  
  
***  
  
"Oh, Mr. Frodo!" Sam sobbed harder upon seeing his beloved master's condition. He touched the burn around Frodo's neck carefully. "Will he be awake, Strider?"  
  
"You have to be patient, Sam," replied the ranger gently. "Frodo had just had a traumatic experience on being suffocated. Lucky he's still alive."  
  
Strider carefully untied Frodo's hands and returned him to his former position. Sam massaged Frodo's swollen wrists. He couldn't say anything other than: Frodo - Frodo - Frodo, over and over.  
  
He and Strider didn't realize that Merry and Pippin were watching them not far from there.  
  
"Pip," whispered Merry, handing his cousin a rock. It want too big bit not small either. "Throw it. Make sure it hit any one of them. Sam, if possible. I can't let Frodo awake and find that his gardener's still up and about."  
  
Pip stared at him in doubt but he didn't say anything. He took the stone and started targeting on Sam. It was a piece of cake for him as he had often hit down apples or oranges from a tree.  
  
Ssssttt - clang!  
  
And Sam went crumpled to his side without any sound. Strider started and cried out, "Sam!" He couldn't tell what happened but then he saw the stone that hit the hobbit. A smear of blood was on it.  
  
Please, no! Don't let Sam -  
  
Hurry, he went to Sam and rubbed the back of his head. There was definitely blood there but fortunately the wound wasn't fatal. Sam was unconscious and Strider hoped that was the worst that could happen to him.  
  
There was a movement, followed by a heavy sigh. Frodo.  
  
Strider turned back to the other hobbit. Frodo's eyes slid open.  
  
"Where am I?" he asked hoarsely. "Am I still alive?"  
  
Strider couldn't help his smile. Relief washed over him. He half forgot that he actually wanted to find out who had thrown out the stone. Strider nodded.  
  
Once his sight had returned to him completely, Frodo looked at Strider unbelievingly. His bows knotted.  
  
"Ranger? You saved me?" he whispered and tried to get up. Frodo staggered.  
  
"Easy," said Strider, quickly helping him. "You're still shocked."  
  
"I - I am free?" Frodo's voice was caught. He looked around and his eyes fell to the form he knew very well.  
  
"S - s - sam? But weren't you - dead already?" he stammered.  
  
Then, as he noted Sam's still body, a new understanding came to him.  
  
"You!" his eyes shot accusingly to Strider. "You killed Sam!"  
TBC  
AN: I guess Strider does have a bow and arrows. After all, he is a ranger! 


	34. Chapter 34

Krista: I'll check the Lord of the Rhymes. And hey, thanks for your keen enthusiasm!  
  
Niphrandl: Frodo will be alright, don't worry.  
  
Aelfgifu: I guess Merry didn't want Frodo to reunite with Sam yet.  
  
Alisaundre: And, wow! All the praises - please! (blush) Glad you like it!  
  
AndysPrincess: This humble writer is only able to go on because of you all! :)  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: (Frodo blinks) "But, I'm rescued, right? Can I just go home and rest?" ^_^  
  
Endymion: Hi! Thanks for your review. Well, let's see. In my place, I don't know how, but it's not only the spirit that is duplicated, but also the physical form. But even if Saruman can only do this for his spirit, he has to place it quickly to someone else's body. So the spirit can't go free for a long time. Otherwise, it will go back to the owner's body. But your idea about using Aragorn's body is not bad at all!  
Warning: AU, angst  
Chapter 34  
"But he was dead," Frodo spoke now more to himself, as if in a swoon. "I saw him dead. Merry also said that he was dead. Yet he is here. WAS here. And now he's dead again, because of you!" Frodo looked around and grabbed a piece of wood that just happened to be there. He stood up and dashed toward the ranger.  
  
Alarmed, Strider stood still and caught the wood the moment it was swung by the angered hobbit. Strider's face went hard, but full of pity toward Frodo. He even hadn't fully recovered. Strider could notice him swaying a little.  
  
"Frodo, look- "  
  
"You even know my name?" cut the hobbit quickly. "How? How!? Did you torture Sam to tell you my name? Did you force him to inform you everything, including about the ring?"  
  
Torture? Oh! Strider was taken aback. Was Frodo just babbling about HIMSELF? Strider remembered Merry's words some time ago.  
  
"Halfling, if this is how you prefer, I won't use your name. Listen, I'll tell you something. Someone threw a stone and it hit Sam's head, hard. He is not dead. He's just unconscious. You can see yourself. Sam will be awake soon. He'll be all right." Strider almost didn't stop to breathe in saying it all.  
  
Frodo shook his head slowly. Doubtfully, nervously.  
  
"No, no." He stepped back. "If Merry said he was dead, he was dead. Sam was gone. Since a long time ago. He would never return - to me again." His voice was one belonging to someone so despaired. Frodo cringed, his knees bending a little, as if reliving the pain that came unto his legs. He could almost feel the thrashing of the belt again.  
  
"Merry, you said?" Strider's head tipped a little to the side. "Merry is a liar, Frodo." Oops, the ranger called him with his name again. He noticed how Frodo tensed.  
  
"You have to believe me, HALFLING. Merry is treacherous. What he had done to you is evil. He only wants the ring."  
  
Another mistake. Frodo was enflamed again.  
  
"Then I'm right, aren't I? You knew about the ring. You also want that thing. Merry is not a liar! He already has the ring, so why would he still want to keep me? Why? Because - because he loves me!"  
  
Strider's jaw dropped open. He knew that Merry had broken Frodo. But what exactly had that evil little thing done to Frodo that could make this poor creature so eager to defend him?  
  
"Frodo, I don't want the ring. It is yours. You have to take it back." He no longer cared if he used the name or not.  
  
The ranger moved forward one step, and another, and another. Maybe he, too, had to use the rough ways to make Frodo back to normal.  
  
Unable to guess what Strider was doing, Frodo was backing away. Fear started to grow in him. A small stone tripped him, making him go sprawling to the ground. Frodo whimpered softly.  
  
"Merry also said not to trust any ranger. He - he - " His lips were quivering now, trying hard not to break into sobs. "Dangerous folks, they are." And had brought him into deep misery, continued Frodo silently.  
  
He glared frightfully as Strider stooped and squatted in front of him. The ranger grasped his shoulder, gently, but that made him squeak.  
  
"No! Go away! Please!"  
  
It seemed as if Frodo was about to be hysterical so Strider quickly pulled away. He tried to divert Frodo's attention to something else. The man pointed at the fading red spot on the hobbit's shirt.  
  
"What is that, Frodo?" he asked carefully. "Was it - did Merry have anything to do with that?"  
  
Breathing heavily, Frodo looked down to his, no, Merry's shirt. He shook his head.  
  
"I - I was stabbed, I guess. But it's healed now. Ted cured me." Clouds had been covering his mind that he completely forgot about he kind-hearted outlaw. "Ted was there-" He directed his face to the back, and he caught his breath. The body he was pointing at no longer belonged to Ted. It was - just an empty shell. And the shell was punctured by an arrow on its back.  
  
Frodo screamed, "Ted!!!"  
  
The man was the only person who had never hurt him and who had always treated him nicely. Frodo ran to him. Dead. He only found a dead body.  
  
Frodo kneeled down in front of it, bewildered. Oh, how he felt so weary.  
  
"You did it, didn't you?" asked him to Strider without looking back, almost in a whisper. "Why?"  
  
Strider was stunned by his behavior. What was this? Couldn't Frodo see who the ruffian was? The man didn't say anything.  
  
"Why? Pray tell me why! I had just found someone who really cared and you had to come and end his life?"  
  
Frodo could no longer hold back his emotion. He broke down, hugging Ted's much bigger shoulders tightly and sobbing hard.  
  
He lay there for what seemed like hours; crying his heart out until he got exhausted and what was left were short hitches and - soft hums. Yes, that was true! Soft hums. Even Strider was hard to believe his ears. He saw Frodo almost like a small child who got tired after asking for something, not granted, and then went weeping and weeping. The child would usually feel so helpless afterwards that he had no idea what to do next. Strider felt like taking Frodo to his arms and rocking him to sleep.  
  
"I did kill the guy," admitted the ranger finally. He knew Frodo was listening although the hobbit didn't make any movement. "I didn't know he was your friend, Frodo. I mean; I only saw that he was one of your captors. And I - I came to save you."  
  
Frodo's ears strained. That was another lie, right? Nobody had come to rescue him, save perhaps Sam. But these big people, they always wanted something from him. Phil, to name one ---  
  
So Frodo kept silent and stayed in his place. Exhaustion also brought him a drowsy feeling.  
  
Then suddenly a sound emerged from nearby bushes.  
  
"Frodo! Finally I found you, lad!"  
  
Merry. He spoke as if Frodo were a little boy. His voice awakened Frodo at once. He turned around, looking up to the smirking hobbit both in relief and fear. Finally, someone who really cared for him!  
  
Unconsciously, Frodo pulled himself off Ted's body quickly. It didn't escape Merry, though, who then flickered his eyes for a second.  
  
Strider was startled to heat that voice again. That devilish hobbit! Only one thing was in his mind now. He had to prevent Merry from laying his hands on Frodo again!  
  
As swift as a deer, Strider grabbed Frodo and pressed him hard against his chest. Surprised at the action, Frodo could only give in. He quivered slightly.  
  
"M - m - merry," called him shakily.  
  
"Yes, Frodo," Merry's smile widened. "You have nothing to fear. Your Merry is here."  
  
Strider was shocked. YOUR Merry? He felt the hobbit squirm a little.  
  
"Stop it!" Strider said to both hobbits. To Merry, he added,  
  
"You'll never get Frodo back! Even if that means I can't put you under arrest for now. Now go away!"  
  
Merry didn't pay him any attention. His eyes stuck to the frightened hobbit in the ranger's clutches.  
  
"Are you hurt, Frodo? Are you frightened? You see. I told you not to believe any rangers.  
  
Frodo nodded frantically.  
  
"I don't! Help me, Merry. Please--" he pleaded pathetically.  
  
"Of course I will. But," Merry glanced at some point behind Strider. "who is that, Frodo?" He nodded to Ted. "You were holding him when I came. Want to explain that to me?"  
  
Frodo had to stop for a while to get what Merry was talking about. Then he remembered. Ted. No! Merry saw him hugging and crying over Ted! A terror suddenly crept in, and the memories of the beatings and all the other torments came flooding in.  
  
"You don't like me anymore, Frodo?" Merry no longer smiled. His voice was as cold as ice. "Don't you remember that I'm the only friend you have?"  
  
Trembled, Frodo whimpered, and shrank back to Strider's body. That gave more spirit to the ranger.  
  
"We're getting out of here!" Strider snapped. He was about to step back and take Frodo with him when he felt a tip of - a sword - on his back.  
  
"Oh, no, you're not. Let go of Frodo!" A voice came from behind. That was Pippin; the other hobbit Strider saw dragging Frodo at the Pony. The one he had never met personally yet.  
TBC 


	35. Chapter 35

AN: Sorry for the wait. Okay. Now watch out for the evil Merrrrryyyyy!!!!!!!1  
Warning: AU, violence  
Chapter 35  
Deep down, Frodo felt that he would be much safer should he be taken by Strider, especially after hearing Merry's sharp remarks. He could see now a glint of anger flash in his cousin's eyes. His mouth went dry. He knew for sure Merry would not let what had happened between him and Ted pass unnoticed. Frodo sighed inaudibly. How could he make such a terrible mistake?  
  
"Get your hands off Frodo. Now."  
  
Frodo heard Piipin order the ranger again. The sword going deeper through the layers if his cloths, Strider groaned angrily. He felt upset with himself, being unable to defend Frodo and himself. Clutching Frodo with his left arm, he would not draw out his sword with his right hand, not that he couldn't. Strider didn't want Frodo to think as if he were kept hostage by him. He wouldn't want the hobbit to grow more and more distrustful toward him. It should be decided by Frodo himself with whom he wanted to go. Frodo should be able to see who was actually fair and who was definitely foul.  
  
Strider felt his heart leap with joy when noticing Frodo's disappointed sigh, though faint, when he released the hobbit.  
  
Frodo was, indeed, disappointed. What? Did the ranger give up on him now?  
  
"All right," Strider raised his hands. "It's up to you now, Frodo. Do you want to go with them, or me?"  
  
And become a burden? Frodo's big, expressive eyes dimmed. Thanks, but no thanks. What was the point if the man didn't actually want to take him?  
  
Merry looked at Frodo, feeling smug with this little victory. He realized how hurt Frodo was now. Before the fair hobbit's very eyes, a man he initially thought was his rescuer gave up on him so easily. Strider didn't even try to bargain him over. Tears welled up in Frodo's eyes. The feeling of becoming a worthless, unwanted hobbit came back. The voice of Merry saying 'I'm the only friend you have' kept repeating in his mind.  
  
Frodo heard someone calling him in the middle of repeated sound of Merry's sentence in his head.  
  
"Frodo," called Merry once more. He had a dagger in his hands. Frodo frowned. What was that for?  
  
Merry was getting impatient.  
  
"Come on. Take it. Kill the man."  
  
Frodo's heart sank in dread. What? Killing the man? It was true that he felt disappointed with the ranger. But killing, murdering, those words had never registered in his mind as something that he HAD to do.  
  
He gasped when Merry shoved the knife to his hand. Disgusted, Frodo threw it away.  
  
Merry flushed with anger but he was not completely surprised. He took the dagger from the ground calmly and waved it in front of Frodo's face.  
  
"Why did you do that? Frodo. Frodo. Don't tell me you're still hoping someone else will care for you more than I do." He put the knife back in his cousin's grasp. "And this ranger certainly won't. He let you go, Frodo, without any doubts."  
  
Frodo threw his glance over Strider briefly. Sadness and despair were gleaming in his eyes. Strider's jaw dropped open. So, was this how Frodo caught the meaning of his letting him free?  
  
"Frodo!" Strider called him out. "That's not what I meant! I-" He had no chance to finish his sentence as Pippin suddenly struck his head hard with the hilt of the sword. The ranger slumped to his knees, barely conscious. But he forced himself to stay awake.  
  
"Halfling, I never wanted to reject you or anything, but-" Once more, Pippin swung the sword to the back of Strider's head. This time blackness completely took over the ranger's world.  
  
"Now he DEFINITELY can't take care of you, Frodo," leered Merry sadistically, glancing at wide-eyed Frodo. Merry waved his hand. "Well? Go on. Finish the job."  
  
Frodo shook his head, still shocked by Pippin's act.  
  
"No, no. I won't kill anyone. You can't make me!" His protest was cut short by a sword tip on his chest. He backed away, only to bump to Merry's body. Frodo breathed raggedly. He heard Merry purr in his ear.  
  
"You still love me, don't you, cousin? Me and only me?"  
  
Frodo nodded weakly. He eyed the sword, horrified.  
  
"Pippin will not do anything with the weapon, Frodo. Not when I say no," added Merry. "And that all will be up to you. If you keep your resistance, I don't know what will happen."  
  
Frodo shut his eyes. Tears streamed down his cheeks.  
  
"All right? Now kill the ranger, or Strider, as I overheard Sam call him that."  
  
Frodo tensed with the sound of Sam. Pippin lowered down the sword and Merry pushed Frodo forward. The ranger - Strider - had started to come to.  
  
"It's easy, Frodo!" shouted Merry from behind. "Just aim at the chest."  
  
Frodo lifted the dagger and, breathing rapidly, he swung it down. At the same time, Strider opened his eyes.  
  
"Frodo, no!" the ranger screamer, a second before the knife plunged into his - upper arm. He groaned in pain. The knife went deep reaching to the bone. Strider felt his vision swim again and he fainted once more.  
  
Frodo trembled heavily. He noticed how the blood ran down Strider's limb to the ground. Stunned, he still couldn't believe he had been the cause of that. Frodo barely heard Merry approach him.  
  
That cousin of Frodo spoke in a low voice, angrily.  
  
"I told you in the chest, Frodo, not in the arm!"  
  
Frodo cried out when his calves were struck with what felt like a big piece of log. He went down to his knees. The strike was quickly followed by another, this time on his back.  
  
"Aargh!!!"  
  
He couldn't breath for a moment and black spots danced in his eyes. The next blow on his stomach toppled him over.  
  
"You MADE me do this, Frodo," Merry's voice sliced the air near Frodo's ear. Frodo tried to straighten up. His breaths went short.  
  
"No! You stay in your place!" Merry kicked him on his sided, sending him back to his stomach. Frodo dazed, trying to get his breaths back. He waited nervously for the next kicking or blows but none came.  
  
Frodo knew that these were his mistakes. He deserved all the punishments. But he also prayed that his punishments were over now. He struggled to get back to his knees, and turned to Merry and Pippin, misty-eyed.  
  
"Please, Merry. I'm so sorry. I - miss you, Merry," said Frodo faintly.  
  
"Bah!" spat Merry, though his eyes gleamed contentedly. He hadn't lost Frodo!  
  
"Miss me?! How dare you say that after all that you have done! Including those with the man there." Merry's eyes lingering back to Ted, Frodo shivered violently. His lips curled.  
  
"No, no, please," he pleaded. "It was - he was-"  
  
But Frodo didn't know what to say and to explain, and that made him even more frightened. In the end, he could only look apprehensively at his cousin.  
  
What came next shocked Frodo terribly. Merry backhanded him mightily, splitting his lips and sending him rolling to his side several times.  
  
No sound came from Frodo afterwards. His small, wrecked body was almost not able to stand anything anymore. The coming blows and strikes were like a horrible, horrible dream for him. He vaguely knew then that he was lying on the edge of a slope. Never imagining Merry would go this far, Frodo shrieked when he was being kicked again and felt that he was falling down the slope. His depleted and broken form was helplessly welcomed by sharp rocks and pieces of big and small twigs. Frodo screamed loudly but then he realized that the screams were just in his mind. He had lost in the blackness since heaven knew when.  
TBC 


	36. Chapter 36

AN: Thanks a lot for those who reviewed the last chapters: Alisaundre, aelfgifu (I saw a book by Dale Carnegie: How to win friends and influence people. ^_^), Blue Jedi Hobbit, AndysPrincess, Niphrandl, Oddwen, Krista (Hope you're better now! Please don't get pneumonia. There is a plague going on now caused by a virus and it attacks the respiration system.), endymion (LOL. Pippin didn't get a ladder. Maybe I made him use a log instead. What do you think?), and Skye (Love your story 'Imprisoned' very much!).  
  
I'm now listening to BBC version of LOTR. Very nice!  
  
Oh, I'd just got these from my beloved beta and illustrator, Emma. You should check them out!  
  
Part 1: Part 2 Part 3   
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
Chapter 36  
  
They were not lost entirely, Frodo's screams. The echo went through Gandalf's mind, startling the wise wizard, like a cry for help. Gandalf clenched his eyes shut tightly, knowing he would find the source faster that way. He knew somehow the screams were Frodo's. He tried to talk to him now, asking him to send a signal back. Nothing. He received nothing.  
  
He concentrated now to see instead of to listen. Still nothing. Everything was blurred.  
  
"There is only one Lord of the Ring! Only one can bend it to his will. And he does not share power!" *  
  
Gandalf recalled the words he gave to Saruman a moment before Gwaihir came to save him. He remembered as well Saruman's words before that.  
  
"I might have failed for the first time. But I'm not worried. I'll get it the second time. And this time I will give no mercy. So warn your pretty little hobbit not to be too stubborn."  
  
Gandalf chewed in the words with difficulty. It was like a riddle. Had Saruman just hinted at him that he had encountered Frodo? But how! And if Saruman meant to say that he had failed in taking the ring from Frodo, was he, Gandalf supposed to be happy?  
  
What if Saruman couldn't take it because the ring was NOT with Frodo any longer? The question left would be: who had the ring now? It was hardly within Sauron's hand. No. Darkness had not come yet.  
  
And now on Gwaihir's back, Gandalf was again trying hard to make contact with Frodo.  
  
"Come on, little one. Hear me. Heed me. Show yourself."  
  
And gradually the mist lifted up, showing an unmoving body in the middle of the woods. Gandalf's vision was getting clearer. His closed eyes were now able to spot Frodo's small frame, lying on his stomach with his face turning to one side.  
  
Gandalf startled. He inhaled sharply. That face. It was not the one he knew at all; the smooth, pinkish-white skinned face. Frodo's face this time was sickly pale with bruises and swell, and there was a trace of blood in one corner of his lips. His expression was the one belong to someone who was in deep agony. Gandalf roared in shock and misery.  
  
"Get down! Get down!" he shouted.  
  
"Where?" replied Gwaihir. Gandalf went still. Where? All he knew was it was a forest, a hilly one. He himself was heading to Rivendell. Was Frodo near that place, too?  
  
"I don't know," said Gandalf desperately. "But can we - can we just fly a little bit lower and scout the area?"  
  
Gwaihir cocked his head.  
  
"My dear Gandalf, it is not that I don't want to help you. But I can't help you if you don't even know for sure where to find your friend."  
  
Gandalf sighed. Beloved Gwaihir. The bird even knew that he was thinking about Frodo without being told.  
  
"He isn't just a friend. He is Frodo Baggins, a dearest cousin of Bilbo Baggins, the most respected hobbit amongst the elves. I can see Frodo in great trouble. I wish to help him before something worst happens."  
  
Gandalf didn't dare to utter that word. Die. He couldn't say that. He couldn't say that he was afraid Frodo would die. Oh, Frodo. What had he asked the boy to do?  
  
"I'm sorry," repeated Gwaihir. "I was hurt before I flew to Orthanc, and I haven't fully healed yet."  
  
Gandalf nodded understandingly. He patted his friend's neck gently.  
  
"It is all right. I understand. We shall get to Rivendell, then. There we can plan our next move."  
  
There was nothing else Gandalf could do right now, and it broke his heart to realize that. Frodo's image was slowly fading.  
  
***  
  
"Heh," Merry said, looking down the small hill. "At least I don't have to bring him down as he definitely would pass out," he said to Pippin, who was also looking down.  
  
"Did he die?" asked him. Merry chuckled.  
  
"No, of course not! This hill is not that high!"  
  
"But Merry, with his condition like that--"  
  
His cousin cut his wail short.  
  
"You're getting soft, aren't you, Pip? You can't! Do you remember when you kept the ring for a while? You were terrified, right? So was he! He is weak, Pippin! Frodo is weak, and what he would do was to give the ring away to some unknown people. Won't it be better if it is in the hand of someone you know well? I can give you anything you've ever wanted, Pippin, without your being afraid. So just do and follow my words. I'll make you more powerful that ever!"  
  
As if under spell, Pippin nodded his head while staring at Merry in awe. His cousin was really brave and incredible! He had admired him before and he respected him more this time.  
  
"Let's go! Grab your things and the pony. We have to get to Frodo before he is awake and escapes!"  
  
***  
  
Soft breeze and chirping sound of birds slowly awakened Frodo. The hobbit stirred. If he were given the freedom to choose, he would rather stay unconscious. This way he felt so peaceful and he didn't have to suffer al the pains and sores.  
  
Frodo sighed while slowly lifting his eyelids open. Dark. Dark had been everywhere, and it was still lingering now. He had had this strangest dream. He had seen a man and an amazingly big bird the man was riding on. What had intrigued Frodo was that the man was trying to communicate with him. Frodo could hear him clearly. He asked him to reply. Frodo felt confused. Had it been a dream or reality?  
  
Either way, he didn't feel like answering. He had felt peaceful enough. He didn't want to wake up. Actually, he kind of forgot what it was like in the real world but he knew it would only give him sorrow and pain. He didn't want any of them. So, he had kept quiet. Let the man and his awful bird pass by. If only he knew --- Frodo then gladly embraced the darkness again.  
  
***  
  
Ah, sleep didn't really help either. And with the wind getting chillier, Frodo was forced to gain his full consciousness. He opened his eyes only to be welcomed by a whirling sensation. He closed his eyes again in dismay. His head must have hit something quite hard. Something sticky above his right eye confirmed this.  
  
With a moan, Frodo tugged his legs up to his chest, and hugged them with his arms, which were full with scratches and bruises. He gasped a little when his right ankle brushed the ground. It seemed that it had got twisted somewhere during his fall. The pain made him choked and Frodo felt so sick he thought he would pass out again.  
  
"Somebody, help me," a strangled voice escaped his trembling lips. He hugged his legs more tightly. He felt so cold and miserable, and he was not sure who to call. He didn't want to call Merry. He just couldn't. But he realized he couldn't mention other names either. Not his papa, mama, Bilbo, not even Ted. He felt certain Merry would find this out, his crying for people's names other than Merry's. No, he wouldn't dare.  
  
Frodo was still in his curled-up position when he heard steps coming. He began to quiver. What was that? An animal?  
  
"Ah, here you are, Frodo!"  
  
Someone he dreaded most. Merry! Frodo tried to shut his mind up from anything. But no matter how tight he closed his eyes, Merry was still there.  
  
"Are you awake, Frodo?" Merry's fingers ran through his curls. Frodo tensed. Then his cousin gasped when seeing the blood on his forehead.  
  
"Oh, you're injured! Let me clean that for you, Frodo."  
  
Frodo flinched when a piece of cloth swept over his wound.  
  
"Don't move, cousin. Let me finish it."  
  
Gently, Merry brushed the blood away. Frodo almost couldn't breathe. Oh, so gentle ---  
  
Slowly, Frodo opened his eyes, looking lost and pitiful. He noticed how Merry never left his gaze from his wound. And when he finally finished, Merry met Frodo's eyes, smiling.  
  
"There. It didn't hurt a lot, right?" Frodo shook his head. Tears started to form in his eyes.  
  
"Ssh, come on." Merry reached for Frodo's shoulders and embraced them, taking them to his lap. "You're going to be fine."  
  
The embrace felt so warm. Frodo closed his eyes again and he sobbed silently. Merry, dear Merry.  
  
"Frodo," called Merry, his hands still busy brushing Frodo's hair off the hobbit's forehead. Frodo's eyes fluttered open. Tears were still gleaming there.  
  
"Yes, Merry?" answered him in a small voice.  
  
"What was the name of the place where Bilbo was going?"  
  
Frodo started. Why did Merry ask him this?  
  
"Rivendell," answered him questioningly. Rivendell. The place of the elves. Why would Merry want to know?  
  
"Why is it, Merry?"  
  
His younger cousin smiled a little. Ah, right. Rivendell. He saw that place once on Bilbo's map, the nearest inhabited place from Bree besides the Shire. Merry was amazed at himself. He had actually known this. What a nice plan he had ---  
  
"Why Frodo? Ah, don't you want to see your Cousin Bilbo again?"  
  
The expression on Frodo's face was priceless. It was a mixture of deep longing and great joy, combined with hurt and betrayed feeling. And when he saw the smirk on Merry's face, it was added with fear.  
TBC  
  
* taken from Peter Jackson's LOTR: FOTR 


	37. Chapter 37

Krista: "I wouldn't even wish for my greatest enemy to suffer from it." Great line! May I use it?  
  
Dark Crystal: Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to keep you from sleeping.  
  
Aelfgifu: Thanks! I'll keep your reminders in mind.  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: You bet! Please keep reading and reviewing.  
  
Alisaundre: Mm, I don't know what to say. I'm just glad you enjoy my story. Thanks.  
  
AndysPrincess: Yeah. I didn't know myself. I thought it would be only 6 or 7 chapters!  
Warning: AU, violence  
Chapter 37  
Merry was amused with what he saw. It was clear that Frodo had not totally forgotten Bilbo, nor had he forgiven what the old man had done to him.  
  
It was true that Merry had managed to implant in Frodo's mind that Bilbo mysterious disappearance in the night when the party was held was all because of him. Merry had also succeeded in making Frodo think he was unworthy for anybody, and thus, it hurt him so.  
  
But that didn't mean that Bilbo was completely erased from the poor hobbit's mind. The memories of how Bilbo had adopted him and made him his heir were too dear. Bilbo had also been so loving and caring. And the comfort of Bag End lingered, too, everytime Bilbo was present in Frodo's mind.  
  
Nonetheless, these just gave the once kind and gentle Cousin Merry all more fun. Of course Merry wanted Frodo to forget about everyone he ever cared for and only have Merry in his head, but the twisted hobbit would also love to send reminders once in a while. How would he do that if Frodo had been entirely torn apart?  
  
Frodo recoiled and drew back, getting away from Merry's embrace. His heart sank in dread. Please, oh please, Eru. Don't let him read his mind. Don't let Merry know what he was thinking. Frodo knew exactly how his eyes and his face had betrayed him by showing how he was missing Bilbo very much. He couldn't have had that feeling at all, Frodo scorned himself with disgust. Just remember what Bilbo had done, abandoning him! Bilbo was nothing but a piece of memory.  
  
But, Frodo choked. He did miss Bilbo! This cousin and also uncle of his had never done anything wrong before. And Frodo was sure that Bilbo loved him unconditionally. Bilbo had never done him any harm either.  
  
"Frodo!" Merry yanked Frodo's hand cruelly. Frodo yelped. "What do you have in that silly brain of yours?" Merry drew his face closer to Frodo's horrified one.  
  
Oh, Lord! He knew! Frodo tried to move backward but Merry gripped his hand tightly.  
  
"No, no! Don't bother to tell me, dear cousin!" Merry snarled. The sneering smirk evaporated. "I know what you are thinking. You still miss him, don't you?"  
  
Frodo whimpered as the grasp on his wrist became tighter. He shook his head frantically.  
  
"I don't! Really!" he hopelessly denied Merry's accusation. Merry didn't buy him a bit. He glanced over Frodo's shoulders.  
  
"Pip," he called. "Hold him still."  
  
Frodo turned his head sharply when he felt Pippin's bony but strong hands grasped his upper arms firmly. And he quickly looked back at Merry when sensing how Merry's fingers were creeping down his right leg and stopped on his heavily swollen ankle. Frodo tugged his leg reflexively but Merry was quicker.  
  
He squeezed the injured body part, eliciting a cry from Frodo.  
  
"Ah, Merry!"  
  
Merry looked at him mockingly.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Frodo. Did it hurt?" teased him. Frodo neither nodded nor shook his head. He tried hard to ignore the throbbing pain.  
  
Amazed, Merry shook his head. What was this? Had his cousin's stubbornness returned again? Once more, he seized the swollen ankle. He kneaded it gradually from softly to relatively hard, which made Frodo gasped, and finally to extremely hard, so hard that Frodo screamed and attempted to jump up only to be held down by Pippin. Frodo panted miserably. It hurt!  
  
"Does it hurt now?" Merry's soft voice made Frodo shudder.  
  
"Merry, please ---"  
  
Mercilessly, Merry poked the flesh harshly with his thumb and forefinger.  
  
"Tell me if it is painful!!"  
  
He squeezed again and again until Frodo broke into unending screams.  
  
"Yes, yes, yes!" It hurts! It really hurts!"  
  
Frodo squirmed against Pippin's grip.  
  
"Now tell me you won't miss him! You will not miss Bilbo anymore!" Merry still continued his torment.  
  
"No! I won't miss him anymore!" yelled the agonized Frodo.  
  
"You still remember who your true friend is?" Merry released his grasp of the ankle and moved to Frodo's chin. Frodo was a bit relieved but now he glared at Merry in terror.  
  
"I do," he muttered despite the grip. "It's you, Merry. You're my true friend."  
  
"Good!"  
  
Frodo's face was snapped to the side when Merry rudely let his chin go.  
  
"You may release him, Pippin."  
  
Unable to hold back his tears, Frodo reached down to his abused ankle and rubbed it softly, weeping. It had become more bluish and even more swollen. He bit his lips to restrain his sobs but failed. Eru ---  
  
"Ah, I forgot something."  
  
Frodo looked up in shock seeing Merry coming back to him. What? More torture?  
  
Merry squatted in front of him and this time both of his hands went to Frodo's right leg. Frodo hadn't got any chance to say something when - SNAP!  
  
Merry pulled Frodo's foot to a different angle with one hand, while the other held the ankle in place.  
  
"There," Merry stood up; satisfaction was all over his face. "I've cured you, love. It has gone back to its proper place," he nodded to Frodo's ankle.  
  
Frodo let his jaw drop open. At first he didn't feel anything. But then the searing pain came like a thunder. Nauseated feeling hit him so badly that he couldn't even scream. Blackness overcame him first.  
  
***  
  
Groaning weakly, Strider was awakened not only by the pricks on his right arm but also by something thundering in a distance. He lifted his body from his lying position, not daring to use too much of his wounded arm to support himself, and sat up. First he checked his limb, and his breath was caught, realizing that the dagger was still there, sticking out of his arm. Gritting his teeth, he willed himself not to cry out while tugging the knife out.  
  
"Oh, for Valar's sake!" He breathed heavily when finally succeeding in his action. Strider's attention was then distracted by a movement not far from him. Sam was stirring. He, too, opened his eyes and tried to get up.  
  
Sam moaned, and fell back to the ground. He was still feeling dizzy.  
  
"Don't, Sam!" shouted Strider. "Lie still. Don't try to get up too fast."  
  
"Strider?" asked Sam, slowly raising his body once more, rubbing the back of his head with his hand and shocked to feel blood there.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Then his memory came back.  
  
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam glanced around in panic. "Where is Mr. Frodo?"  
  
The last thing he knew was his master lying near where Strider was standing right now, half dead. Or, was Frodo gone already? No, NO!  
  
"Is he dead, Strider? Is he??" Sam darted to Strider and tugged at the man's cloak violently. Strider grabbed Sam at his shoulders, nearly slapping the anxious hobbit if he didn't stop his act at once.  
  
"Sam. SAM! Pull yourself together. Frodo is not dead. At least not when I last saw him."  
  
Sam let go of the ranger and went crumpled on the ground, sniffing audibly. He was staying there, unable to move any of his bones while listening to Strider briefly telling him what had happened, in the next couple of minutes. Sam kept silent even after Strider was finished.  
  
"Sam?" called the man worriedly. The hobbit gazed up blearily.  
  
"They have him again? Merry captures him again?" Sam started to weep yet again. "Poor master, I haven't even had a chance to see him awake! I miss him terribly, Strider. What a bad guard I am! I keep failing to protect him." In his mind, he could see how Frodo suffered in the hands of his own cousins.  
  
What words of comfort could he give, Strider wondered. But then suddenly it happened again. Strider could feel again the earth shaking like there was a quake.  
  
"Do you feel it?" he asked Sam, getting down and listening closely to the ground. Sam frowned. Feel what? He stopped crying and shook his head. No.  
  
"Are you sure?" Strider pushed on.  
  
"I am, Strider. What are you talking about?"  
TBC 


	38. Chapter 38

endymion: :)))))  
  
aelfgifu: I got the idea of abusing the already injured part from GI Jane. Love that mivie just because Aragorn is in it!  
  
Krista: (blush) Thanks.  
  
Alisaundre: Heh, you're right. Merry HAS to stop for a while. Frodo must be a total wrecked hobbit by now - after 37 chapters of non-stop torture. Oh, my!  
AN: I can't say that I believe in astrology. But a few days back, I felt totally blank when trying to write. And when I pushed on writing, it went completely blunt. And on that particular day, it happened that my star said that I would be unimaginative and having a writer's block. Was it really true?? Well, enough for me. On with the story and have a nice weekend! ^_^  
Warning: AU  
Chapter 38  
Merry kicked Frodo lightly at the back. The hobbit stirred, grimacing. But he clenched his eyes shut even more tightly. Frodo curled up and made soft, whispering sounds, as if he were crying in his sleep. He just had one of the most terrifying dreams in which his leg had been caught by something and snapped, and he couldn't surface.  
  
Merry was becoming impatient. He reached down and slapped Frodo hard enough to awaken him. Frodo's eyes jerked open and he sat up, shutting them back immediately as dizziness suddenly came.  
  
"We've got to go now," announced Merry.  
  
Frodo shifted a little and gasped when his healing ankle brushed against the ground. His eyes looked strangely misty, but his words were even weirder when they were spoken up.  
  
"Go? Where?"  
  
He gazed at Merry as if he had never seen the light-brown-haired hobbit before.  
  
"Rivendell. I told you we were going to see your cousin, Bilbo."  
  
Frodo got more uncomfortable. His brows were knotted.  
  
"B - bilbo?" he stuttered. "Who is Bilbo?"  
  
Despite everything he had done and wished for, Merry jumped at the question. Was Frodo joking around? But from the worried face Frodo wore, Merry knew his cousin was not joking at all.  
  
Merry crouched, making Frodo cower even more.  
  
"You don't know your own cousin and also uncle, Frodo?"  
  
Frodo's heavy breath answered Merry's question.  
  
"But, Frodo. He was the one giving you everything he once owned, including this." Merry clawed out the ring but Frodo just stared blankly, first at Merry and then at the gold ring. Merry put it back into his pocket.  
  
"So, do you forget about me, too?"  
  
Like a miracle, Frodo's lips curved up. He smiled, though it only made him look sadder.  
  
"How can I ever forget you, Merry? You are the only person who stays with me like none others."  
  
The answer did surprise Merry but he grinned nevertheless. This poor, beaten-down hobbit had lost a part of his mind but thankfully Merry was not a part of those forgotten! Even the ring was included in the lost part. Merry's smile widened.  
  
"That is true, dear Frodo. I will never leave you behind. But the way, your name is Frodo, just as I called you earlier."  
  
Frodo nodded weakly, arms flailing reaching for Merry.  
  
"Yes, come here, baby." Merry pulled Frodo up. Frodo held his breath as he put his weight on his legs. The right leg was still hurt and he didn't think he would able to use it right away.  
  
"Can you manage?" asked Merry with a worried look. "Are your legs strong enough to walk?"  
  
Frodo breathed deeply. He had to be strong, he reminded himself. They were going soon and the journey seemed to be quite long. Merry needed him to be strong and he didn't want to show to anybody that he was weak. He didn't want to be left behind in the end.  
  
But who was Bilbo? Frodo tried desperately to find the name in the dark corners of his wrecked brain. But he failed. Then he noticed that the hobbit in front of him was still observing him closely. Frodo flushed. Merry was waiting for his answer.  
  
"Yes, I can manage," Frodo said feebly.  
  
"Or you can ride the pony otherwise," offered Merry kindly. Frodo actually wanted to say no, but his relieved mind was faster in ordering his mouth to answer,  
  
"I would be very glad, Merry."  
  
Merry turned around to find his other cousin, Pippin. He noticed that Pippin had been paling to learn how Frodo had failed to remember some of the facts in his life. Pippin was about to say something when he saw Merry stared at him sharply. He shut his mouth at once.  
  
"Help us, Pip," called Merry. "Help me mount Frodo to that pony."  
  
Frodo looked at Pippin wildly as the young hobbit approached. Merry sensed something would go amiss if he didn't act rightfully. He grabbed Frodo's shoulders, embracing them, feeling the tense in the hobbit, and quickly tried to calm him.  
  
"Frodo, don't worry! This is Pippin. He is a nice lad, my cousin. He's here to help us all."  
  
Frodo tried to squirm free from the tight hug but Merry insisted on holding him.  
  
"W - what is he going to do?" Frodo asked quiveringly.  
  
"Helping you get on the horse. Nothing else," persuaded Merry gently. "Oh, come on, Frodo. You can't do that alone. You are too weak. And I can't help you by myself either.I need a hand." Merry slowly took one of his hands off the shoulder and laid it gently on Frodo's back, tenderly rubbing it. It successfully eased the tense, and Frodo turned to Merry, weariness all over his face.  
  
"All right, Merry. I trust you, and I think I can trust him, too."  
  
Merry smiled, nodding his head, and led Frodo to the pony.  
  
Pippin went to Merry and Frodo, and pushed Frodo's leg while Merry, after lifting his cousin's body, pushed his back. It was impossible for Frodo to mount himself. All of his body parts still felt sore from the beating and the falling.  
  
Again, Merry looked at his cousin, up and down. This insensible hobbit definitely needed a bath. He was shamefully filthy. If they came across a river in their journey later on, Merry would wash Frodo himself.  
  
Merry smiled contently at this plan. Frodo would surely fall hopelessly for him after he helped him bath. He would never be able to regain his normal condition once he could be convinced that Merry was HIS master and guardian.  
  
So the three hobbits embarked on their journey. Merry walked in the front and was followed by Pippin, who was leading the pony with Frodo on its back. Frodo was near to closing his eyes again, starting to drift away in sleep.  
  
***  
  
After walking for several hours, Merry started to get exhausted. Pippin was not in his best condition either.  
  
"Pip!" shouted Merry. "We shall rest here and have some bites of bread. Wake Frodo up, will you?"  
  
Pippin had just thrown himself to the ground and groaned loudly after hearing Merry's order. His feet ached and his stomach growled in hunger. He leered at Frodo with envy. How weird their condition was! Their captive got even better treatment than they were. Frodo had been sleeping all the time, lying on his belly along the pony's neck and back. He was sleeping so soundly he never moved even an inch.  
  
"I'm so tired, Merry. Can it wait?" Pippin sighed, now lying down with his hands supporting his head. He felt his eyelids grow heavy.  
  
"Pippin!" barked Merry. His younger cousin, already half asleep, jerked up. "We can't stay in one place too long. Those hooded creatures can come any second!"  
  
Grumbling, Pippin stood up.  
  
"Yes, master," he said mockingly, and walked past Merry to the pony which in the meantime had been strolling around by itself.  
  
But Merry didn't let him go that fast. He caught Pippin's collar and tugged him closer. Merry's eyes were red with anger and - obvious pride.  
  
"Why did you say that?" he gnarled. Pippin cowered.  
  
"I - I am sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just very tired, Merry," pleaded the frightful creature.  
  
"Because," replied Merry, "because that's not true, you know!? I'm not your master and you're not going to be my slave. We're of the same position, Pippin."  
  
Pippin's eyes widened.  
  
"Really?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Definitely! Even if I were to be a master, it would be of Frodo and all other walking beings in the Middle Earth. Not you. Never you." He let Pippin go only to be quickly hugged back.  
  
"Thank you. Oh, thank you, dear Merry!" Trying not to break into smile, Merry freed himself from Pippin.  
  
"Very well, then. Now, get Frodo, please." Pippin darted off cheerfully.  
  
It was rather hard to snatch Frodo away from his dreamland. Frodo whined and was a bit upset by the disturbance.  
  
"Come on, old chap! Wake up or I'll have to drag you down!" More whining, but Pippin didn't care. He pulled Frodo's hand, forcing him to yield and start to dismount by himself, better than being tugged down.  
  
With a great care not to hurt his right ankle again, Frodo walked by leaning more on his left one. They went to Merry who was sitting near the fire, preparing the food. He gazed up.  
  
"Come, Frodo, Pippin. Sit here with me and have some food."  
  
He got all the food from Pippin's backpack. His own bag was scattered somewhere with Strider and Sam.  
  
Frodo sat down. His eyes brightened. He hadn't been having a proper meal for what seemed like years. His knees felt weak all of a sudden when realizing how hungry he was. But the smell - the smell coming from whatever was in the pot made his stomach churn. He couldn't tell what exactly made him feel that way - his memory was still blocked up - but he was sure it wasn't something pleasant. He received a bowl of the food - soup, apparently - from Merry with reluctance.  
  
"What is it, love? You seem not too happy with it. Aren't you grateful with what I give you?" Frodo flinched at the tone of Merry's voice.  
  
"I - I am, Merry, honest!" He reflexively grasped the bowl with both his hands, and winced when realizing that it was burning hot. He immediately put it down to the ground. Merry sneered.  
  
"Easy, Frodo. Now eat it slowly. Here's the bread." Merry handed him a big piece of rather dried bread. It was still good, though.  
  
Frodo finished the bread in quite high speed. He was so starved. Then he gulped down a great amount of water. Sighing contentedly, he turned to his two cousins, who, in fact, had been staring at him all the time.  
  
"Sorry," murmured Frodo, blushing. "It was very nice. I was so hungry. Thank you very much."  
  
Merry smiled encouragingly.  
  
"Don't mention it, Frodo. This is the least we can give you. But hey, you still haven't finished your soup!"  
  
Frodo looked down, eyeing disgustedly at the already-cold soup. His eyes rolled up, glancing at Merry, with his head still bent down.  
  
"I think I'm full already. It's not that I don't want it, Merry!" added Frodo quickly so as not to upset his cousin. Merry tilted his head. Curiosity filled him. There had to be something wrong. Although Frodo was notorious at always eating so little, it was not his habit to reject something entirely. Finally Merry decided to deal with it later.  
  
"All right. That's fine, Frodo."  
  
"Don't be mad, Merry. Please---" begged Frodo.  
  
"Hey!" Merry tapped Frodo on the shoulder. "Nobody gets mad, beloved."  
  
Warm feeling gushed over Frodo's heart. Merry was not angry and he wasn't punished for being such a bad boy! He leant on Merry's hand that was still on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, smiling and feeling like crying at the same time.  
  
"Thank you, Mer - ry," Frodo mentioned the name softly, as if he didn't deserve to just even mention it. He was looking at his cousin now with his adoring eyes.  
TBC 


	39. Chapter 39

Alisaundre: I'm planning to give Frodo more recovery time but I also want Merry to be evil again. Gggrr!  
  
Aelfgifu: Yes, you are tight about the soup. BTW, now I feel that I won't be able to satisfy you guys!  
  
John Lennon Across the Universe: Oh, your comment about how the good want to protect him and the evil want to harm him sent shivers down my spine!! Elwood's Frodo is just so adorable!  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: "I'm in need of a great therapy chapter. Please help!!" ^_^  
  
Krista: That's nooo problem about being late to review. But of course I always want people to review so I can be sure that they do read my story. Merry's going soft on Frodo? Maybe. But it's just one way to show that he's truly evil! Story is about to end? Oh, no, my dear! I'm afraid not!! :)  
Warning: AU  
Chapter 39  
"Help--- Help me-" There was a faint voice but nobody seemed to heed it.  
  
"That's right, Strider. I still cannot hear anything," Sam persisted. Strider gave up, sighing.  
  
"I can't hear anything either now."  
  
"What exactly did you hear?" Sam got curious.  
  
Strider looked away.  
  
"Mmh, I don't know. I'm not sure. It was like --- the sound of horses? Hundreds of horses? But sometimes it sounded different. And sometimes I just couldn't hear anything at all."  
  
"Why didn't I hear it too?" chased Sam.  
  
The ranger shrugged.  
  
"Because it was too far, perhaps? And I'm a ranger. Maybe that's why--"  
  
His voice was interrupted by yet another faint cry.  
  
"Help, please ---"  
  
Sam's ears strained. This one he could hear.  
  
"Hey, Strider! Who is that?"  
  
The man looked around. There were only the two bodies near them; one once belonged to Saruman and the other belonged to - no! The other one turned to be still moving! Strider ran to him immediately and checked on the pulse. It was there though very weak.  
  
The man's eyelids shuddered a little and his lips parted slowly.  
  
"H---"  
  
"Ssshh," quieted Strider. "You'll be just fine - Ted." Though amazed at the fact that the man was still alive after all this time, Strider managed to recall the name Frodo had cried out.  
  
Strider's fingers went to the arrow that was still sticking out of Ted's body. No wonder. It went into the part between his chest and stomach, not striking a vital organ that otherwise could be deadly. Strider was considering pulling it out, but he realized that he needed to be very careful at doing it.  
  
Ted grimaced, squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and then opened them. He tried hard to focus his sight.  
  
"Who - are - you?" he asked Strider in a mumbling voice. He was about to talk more when pain attacked him. Ted let out small hitches as he struggled to will it.  
  
"I - " It was difficult for the ranger to answer the question. How could he say that he was the one who shot the arrow that could have ended the man's life?  
  
"I - am a friend of Frodo," Strider said eventually.  
  
"Frodo," whispered Ted. "A hobbit so fair and nice looking. Wonder why Saruman liked it so much to torment him," Ted said all those words with great difficulty. But affection was clear in his feeble voice. "He's dead, isn't he? That all happened because I was not brave enough."  
  
A strangled voice escaped his lips, making Strider stoop immediately to check. No. Ted was all right. He was just - breaking into sobs.  
  
"Don't," urged Strider. "Don't push yourself. No more talking. I will try to take the arrow out of your body."  
  
Ted's eyes searched for Strider's.  
  
"But it's right, right? Frodo couldn't stand the torture anymore. Not with a body so small like his."  
  
Strider didn't say anything. He was concentrating on the arrow. He had broken half of the wooden part so now it was just the remaining half and the metal tip of the arrow that stayed.  
  
"Sam," he hissed. "Please get some athelas from my bag. We're going to need them."  
  
Sm nodded quietly and went find the bag.  
  
The ranger turned to the arrow again and with one hand clamping over Ted's mouth, he pulled the weapon as swiftly as possible with his other hand. His scream muffled Aragorn's palm, Ted's eyes went huge.  
  
"Done," informed Strider, relieved, to the slowly fading man. He lifted his hand from the mouth.  
  
"Ooh!" heaved Ted. "It hurt-" He collapsed before he had the chance to finish his sentence.  
  
Strider bent down to Ted's chest and started to suck the blood from the wound. That would keep it from getting infected. The metal had been stuck too long in Ted's flesh. Strider spat out the blood and took the athelas leaves and crushed them in his hands.  
  
"Thanks, Sam," he said while covering the wound with the leaves. Then he eyed Ted.  
  
"I'm sorry," muttered Strider. "Wish I knew you were not that bad. I do hope the athelas will help you recover."  
  
***  
  
Feeling full, warm, safe, and protected, Frodo curled up dozing off on Merry 's lap. He was dreaming about some place beautiful and comfortable, but unfamiliar to him. Merry noticed his childlike elder cousin sometimes smiled a little. That made him smiled too. He played his hand through Frodo's hair, humming lullabies softly.  
  
He had always liked Frodo, respecting him. But at the moment there was no respect in the dark little heart of his. There was only the desire to make Frodo completely bow down to his power.  
  
Merry knew he could without Frodo, but why wasting a willing, though rather forced, bait? He ran his fingers down Frodo's stained cheek, then moved to his delicately sculpted nose and finally to the small, adorable lips. Frodo did look adorable but he was never popular amongst the lasses thanks to his worshipping books and adventures.  
  
Frodo's lids fluttered open, his lovely blue eyes catching the sight of Merry so close to his face. He held his breath. A glint of fear flashed for a moment, but then vanished as soon as he was able to register Merry's name in his partially erased memory. The smile that had been adorning his sleep came back. Merry titled his chin up gently.  
  
"What is it?" he purred, as if he were talking to a small child. "Beautiful dream, Frodo?"  
  
Frodo looked away, blushing. He shook his head. It had to be beautiful, he was sure, but he couldn't remember it anymore. Still smiling, he turned back to Merry and whispered,  
  
"Must have been in heaven. So peaceful and lovely. Then there were some people, too. They called my name, Merry. But I didn't answer. I don't know them."  
  
Merry was silent for a while. Might they be Frodo's parents? Then he let it go.  
  
"That is very nice, Frodo," replied Merry. "But you don't regret, do you, that you woke up?"  
  
"Oh, no. No, Merry!" chirped Frodo. He sat up and hugged his cousin lovingly. "I am glad to be here with you."  
  
Merry laughed and broke Frodo's embrace.  
  
"I have a surprise for you, Frodo dear."  
  
Frodo looked at him curiously.  
  
"We're going to take a bath. Isn't that nice? I asked Pippin to boil some water a moment ago. I think it must be ready now. Can you imagine? You're going to get fresh and clean!"  
  
Merry didn't expect Frodo to jump happily at the news, of course, but he thought the hobbit would at least welcome it. He never guessed that Frodo would instead draw back and get tense all over. The word 'bath' and 'water' had triggered something in his mind that made him recoil.  
  
"Come on, Frodo." Merry stood up and took his cousin's hand. Frodo got more panicky. He shut his eyes, feeling like being swirled into another dimension. He seemed not to realize how Merry gripped him ever more tightly.  
  
"What is the matter with you!" Merry yelled impatiently and tugged the thin wrist harshly now.  
  
Frodo's eyes were still clenched shut. He felt like getting trapped somewhere with no chance to escape. Water! No! Unconsciously he remembered being gushed over by good amount of chilling water, leaving him freezing and quivering feverishly. Frodo was actually quivering now.  
  
"Please, Merry, no. I have promised to be good," he begged miserably, pulling himself to the opposite direction.  
  
"For Eru's sake, Frodo!" Merry grabbed Frodo's upper arms and shook the hobbit hard. "What on Middle Earth are you talking about? I said a bath, Frodo, a nice warm bath! What do you have in mind?! Open your eyes, Frodo!"  
  
Still shuddering, Frodo opened his eyes. Horror was still lingering there.  
  
"Warm bath?" he echoed weakly.  
  
"Indeed!"  
  
"Not - not cold water?"  
  
"No! But you many go swim in the river with Pippin afterwards. And the water will be quite cold, I guess. What was it that you were thinking, Frodo?" asked Merry again.  
  
But Frodo would not answer. He was a bit embarrassed now, having got panicked by - his own imagination?  
  
Somehow Merry could see which part of Frodo's memory had just come to the surface. He glanced over to Pippin, who seemed to understand, too.  
  
Merry hugged Frodo and led him to a fire.  
  
"Look, Frodo," said Merry, pointing at a big wooden bucket full of warm water near the fire, cheerfully. "I have no idea where Pippin has got the bucket. I might have come together with the pony. But never mind! The important thing is I can make you feel frech again."  
  
Merry brushed away some curls that were crowding over Frodo's forehead and were caked with sweat and mud.  
  
"And your hair - it will become soft and shiny again."  
  
Frodo just stood there, too stunned to say anything. He almost couldn't believe his eyes.  
  
TBC 


	40. Chapter 40

AN: A bath scene is on its way! I tried the best way to write it. I need all the luck I can get.  
  
Aelfgifu: (clear throat) I actually just wrote 39 chapters. This will be the 40th. And, give me your best guesses on why Merry needs Frodo. I have a plan of my own, but it's still fun to get more ideas! Oh, about Ted, I almost changed my mind and erased the whole part!  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: 'insignificant'? Nonsense! Nobody's ever said that a good story should be long. I've never planned to write this long. It's just that it's really not supposed to finish, according to the outline in my head!  
  
Endymion: Sorry if the operation was not accurate. The idea came from how people treated it somewhere in the year of 500s. I read it in the Internet.  
  
John Lennon Across the Universe: .and I got Merry's character from Dom! LOL. Do you know that he also auditioned as Frodo? I got this from an interview with Billy Boyd. It's very cute. You can check it out at www.bagendinn.com  
  
Alisaundre: Bookmarked? Wow! Thanks a lot! Oh, no. Maybe I have chosen a wrong word for 'bait' But maybe not! :)  
  
Warning: AU  
  
Chapter 40  
  
Sam folded his legs up to his chin and hugged them tightly. His eyes wandered to Strider's. The ranger added more wood into the fire, sighing regretfully.  
  
"Sorry, Sam. But we really have to hold our journey until Ted at least can follow us on his horse."  
  
Sam sighed, too, laying his head to his knees. Delaying their quest means putting Frodo's life in danger longer. But,  
  
"I understand, Strider," said Sam slowly. "We can't leave Ted here, out of nowhere. And he had been so gentle to Frodo." Sam felt tears starting to form in his eyes. He rubbed them angrily. No, he had to be strong. Ted would soon recover and they could start walking again. Frodo would not be too far by that time.  
  
Ted observed the odd couple, one man one hobbit, one so composed one so emotional, silently. He realized he didn't know anything about hobbits and their nature at all. The first hobbit he knew was Frodo and their meeting didn't happen at the best time to get to know each other.  
  
He had been awake for almost an hour now. The athelas really helped his wound to heal. He felt a lot better now than the last couple of days.  
  
Ted had told Strider and Sam, what remained in his memory, about Frodo. Strider cringed and Sam unconsciously dropped his jaw when listening to his horrible story about the bread and snakes. Ted vividly described how Saruman had always managed to make Frodo suffer and feel more and more unworthy. There was something Ted didn't quite understand, though. It was about the way Frodo acted. He always seemed to be in constant battle with himself. Ted often found the hobbit weep without any particular reasons. Frodo also often hesitated to accept Ted's gentle treatment.  
  
Strider heaved.  
  
"He is confused," commented Strider. "Frodo is terribly, terribly confused." He remembered Merry's evil remarks on how he had foul-treated Frodo. "He had been tortured. Yet when comfort came, from you, he could hardly accept it as someone else had influenced him so badly." Frodo even had almost killed him when ordered by that 'someone'.  
  
Ted looked at Strider unbelievingly.  
  
"It was that hobbit, wasn't it? He's with him again now?" he croaked.  
  
Strider nodded frustratedly.  
  
***  
  
Frodo was back with Merry and Pippin again, indeed. And nobody could tell what the men and Sam would say if they saw him now. Merry had taken off Frodo's shirt, leaving him only with his breeches now. Then he made Frodo kneel down before him, eyes closed, and totally entrust his whole life to Merry. A big bucket of warm water, boiled with some healing and sweet- smelling herbs in it, was standing next to them.  
  
Merry scooped a small basin of water and pour it over Frodo's hair, tilting his cousin's chin a bit so that the water would not get into his eyes. It got in the eyes anyway, making Frodo gasp and open them automatically. The water was a bit too warm for him.  
  
He caught Merry smiling down at him.  
  
"You like it, love?" Merry said, oh-so-softly. Frodo smiled weakly, beautifully.  
  
Merry's fingers now ran through his locks while amounts of water were gushed over them. The water felt so nice. And Frodo enjoyed very much how the fingers were massaging his head, getting rid of his tiredness and mud on it.  
  
Finally Merry nodded satisfyingly. He looked at Frodo, his breath caught.  
  
"Your hair is clean now, Frodo, as it usually is. And it smells wonderful. Now, let's move on to your face."  
  
Merry was about to take a piece of cloth near the bucket when he suddenly couldn't move at all. Frodo's arms were circling around his waist, hugging him tightly. Soft sobs escaped Frodo's lips.  
  
Merry smiled a little. But that was only on the outside. Inside, Merry cheered victoriously. Once again, Frodo utterly, yet wordlessly, admitted his resignation to him.  
  
Merry took Frodo's upper arms, trying to break free. Pippin, who was still busy adding more water boil, turned to both of them. Curiosity - and envy - were on his face. He knew that Merry's softness toward Frodo was fake but still he felt envious. Merry was trying to calm Frodo down. But that only resulted in harder sobs.  
  
"Ssh, Frodo. It's all right. You know that I always want to do the best for you. You've been a good boy, so I grant you this. Besides, you do need a bath!"  
  
Blushing, Frodo snuggled his face deeper into Merry's chest. His sobs were beginning to subside.  
  
"Oh, now look what you have done!" Merry scowled. Startled, Frodo looked up. "Frodo, you naughty hobbit, you're making me wet!" He might sound angry but the smile in his eyes and lips showed otherwise. Frodo chuckled a little.  
  
Laughing cheerfully, Merry snatched the cloth.  
  
"Like I said before, now we're going to wash your face."  
  
"Yes, Merry," replied Frodo in a small voice.  
  
His cousin soaked the cloth in the basin and squeezed it. He looked at Frodo in the eye, smiled, and cupped Frodo's right cheek in his left hand. Then with his other hand, he washed Frodo's eyes from the inside corner to the outside, one after another. Merry watched the thick lashes in amazement as they curtained over the voluntarily closed eyes. Frodo was stunning even when he hid his most breathtaking feature - his eyes.  
  
Merry began to question his own statements about why all people seemed to abandon this lovely creature. He saw himself how Bilbo 'ran' away from Frodo. Looking for peace for his old days? Please!! What was wrong with staying at Bag End with Frodo on his side?  
  
Meanwhile, he had started with Frodo's ears.  
  
He rubbed a bit harder this time, front and back, inside and outside. Frodo winced a little.  
  
"Sorry, darling. Got to do it this way to really clean them over." Frodo just nodded. Merry soaked the cloth again. Frodo watched him closely, and screamed a little when it clamped over his face, rubbing his forehead then down to his nose, cheeks, lips, and his chin. He loved it very much, though!  
  
"I'm so glad that you like it, Frodo," Merry purred in his ears. "I really want you to cherish this moment and remember it always. Keep it in your mind, Frodo Baggins, beloved. There is nothing in Middle Earth that can make me go away from you. I hope you won't leave me either."  
  
Then he started to sing, in a low voice, a song Frodo distinctly remembered often sung by his mother. Frodo felt like drowning into eternal peace. He could barely listen to Merry's words. They had been spoken too softly. Yet somehow Frodo felt that they were sinking into him, going into the deepest part of his heart. And now this song he knew just too well. He just didn't realize that.  
  
Merry stopped singing, observing the result of his action. He lifted Frodo's face by the back of the head and sighed deeply. The fairness showed again, though shadows of past bruises were still there.  
  
"What a sweet boy," Merry breathed. Frodo blushed again.  
  
Now Merry handed in another piece of cloth to Frodo, who quickly grabbed it to get rid of his awkward feeling. He soaked it into the water and rubbed it over his neck and throat. Merry laughed.  
  
"Slowly, Frodo. There is no need to rush. You won't get the best result if you do it that way."  
  
Not only that. Merry would also love to do the same to Frodo's neck. And he did that eventually, also to the throat, forcing Frodo to expose it to Merry. Merry shuddered.  
  
"I swear it, Frodo. I've helped my mom wash my brothers and sisters before but none of them has complexion as soft as yours. Yours is like a baby's, Frodo. Honest!"  
  
"Merry, please---"  
  
It was such a torment for Frodo to be flooded with tender and comforting words without him being able to resist them and to realize how the real situation was.  
  
The two were busy washing and pouring water over Frodo's body, chest and back, now. Frodo giggled when Merry's fingers tickled his waist.  
  
"You knew it! You've always known my weakness!" accused Frodo, trying to get away from Merry's grip. But his cousin wouldn't let him go. Instead he tickled him once more and spilled out water again over the head. Frodo gasped and stood up.  
  
Without knowing it, Pippin was already standing behind him. He tapped Frodo on the shoulder. Jumping shockingly, Frodo turned around.  
  
"Want to swim in the river?" Pippin grinned at him. That sounded swell! Frodo turned back, facing Merry, with pleading eyes. His cousin nodded, smiling.  
  
"Go! I will clean up the things here." He pushed Frodo gently. "Have fun!"  
  
Frodo ran away happily and jumped into the river. Pippin followed him after taking off his shirt and waistcoat. Frodo had never felt happier. He almost felt as if he were back at the Shire again, splashing the water, ducking from it, and pulling one another with Pippin into the water ---  
  
But he suddenly stood still. His keen ears caught something. And it went louder every time. Then ---  
  
"Who are you people!" He heard Merry shout. Fear was in the voice. "Let me go! LET ME GO!"  
TBC 


	41. Chapter 41

Alisaundre: Oh! Guess what? Pippin is capable of doing anything he wants, right? ^_^ Blue Jedi Hobbit: Poor baby. Let me send you some jelly beans from Jakarta. (pouring down colorful jelly beans---) Endymion: Wargs are not people, right. How about the riders? (grin nervously) Thanks again for yet another critical review. Aelfgifu: Mmmh, I really, really need to learn more on writing scenes like that. Honest! I felt like I didn't really put all my feelings into it. BTW, RATM rocks! Have you ever taken a creative writing class? Krista: Thanks a lot, dear. Though - please see my comments above. :D QTPie: Oooh --- thanks very much you finally read my story. I feel honored! I do hope you will still enjoy it as you read along. Pardon me if the sentences in the story seem to stumble or don't go smoothly. ShireElf: (grin) Just read along and you're gonna like 'Poor Frodo' for more! John Lennon Across the Universe: Mmmmm------- lovely Frodo! He's just too beautiful! One of the reasons (or should I say - the only reason?) why I wrote this story. And thanks in advance for sharing the Bumblebee experience!  
  
AN: OMG! More than 200 reviews!!!!!!!!! I would really like to send my most sincere gratitude to you all!!! I would've never been able to write these many chapters had they not been read and commented on. And my big thanks to my beloved beta and loyal support, Emma!! Dearest Readers, you should all read her story, Ring Around The Merry. (Or you have read it?? :))  
  
Warning: AU, violence  
  
Chapter 41  
  
Merry shouted again. Frodo sent a panicked glance at Pippin, who, on the other hand, looked strangely calm. That bewildered Frodo, but he let it pass.  
  
"We must go back right now, Pip! Merry is in trouble."  
  
Frodo crawled in the shallow water, out of the river. But he felt a shadow looming from behind, and a moment later a hand suddenly clawed at his shoulder and strongly pulled him backward. Yelping, he landed hard on his back, hissing in both shock and pain.  
  
Frodo looked up at his attacker, half angry half stunned.  
  
"Pippin?" he whispered and started to his feet before a fist connected to his bare side. He tried to suppress a grunt but failed. With unbelieving eyes still locked at Pippin's towering figure, Frodo hunched over to lessen the pain.  
  
"What - what is it, Pip?"  
  
His cousin grinned evilly but then a shadow came over his face. His eyes shone in pain and anger. He stooped and grabbed Frodo's arms, pulling him up. Pippin suddenly looked so much bigger and stronger. Frodo flinched when a finger trailed down his cheek and then stopped, nudging up below his chin, forcing him to throw his head back.  
  
"You might be lovable, Frodo. No, You ARE lovable. But I don't like to see how Merry finds you more special than me."  
  
Frodo made an attempt to move back, away from Pippin's strong grasp and painful touch. It just resulted in a tighter grip and nails digging deeper into Frodo's skin.  
  
"I'm nothing special to him," choked Frodo. "HE IS special to me. Merry is the only person who really wants me."  
  
Pippin blew up in laughter as he heard a statement sounding so silly to him.  
  
"Wants you? Whoever wants you?!" The comment felt like a stab to an old wound for Frodo. His eyes started to get watery.  
  
"But again," Pippin stopped laughing, looking contemplative. "if he ever wants you, I will stop that! He once promised me about sharing power. I won't let you step in among us, me, Merry, and the power!"  
  
Frodo didn't understand what Pippin was talking about, and he didn't care either. What was in his mind right now was that Merry needed his help badly. Pippin had held him too long.  
  
He snatched his body away and when finding he was free, he turned around and started to run. Pippin's mind snapped back to reality and, wasting not a single second, he jumped over Frodo, sending his cousin hard to the ground.  
  
Frodo felt his breath was knocked out of him when his body hit the riverbed and more so when his chin suffered from the same thing in a brief moment. His vision got blurred, and he tasted blood from his lips. Still, he didn't want to give up.  
  
Pippin shouted angrily as Frodo tried to get to his knees. He kicked Frodo's back with his sturdy, hairy foot.  
  
"No!" Frodo gasped. "Merry---"  
  
"Let Merry have his lesson, too," hissed Pippin sadistically. "For trying to ignore me!" He twisted Frodo's left arm behind his back, making the weakened hobbit cry in pain.  
  
"Aarggh, Pippin!"  
  
"I hate you, Frodo," Pippin's voice was as sharp as a knife, slicing the cool air surrounding the river. "I hate you with all my heart."  
  
Now he caught a handful of Frodo's curls and forced the head down. Frodo tried to resist by pushing his free hand to the riverbed. But the hand soon buckled down. The devilish Pippin was too strong for him.  
  
Pippin pushed Frodo further down, into the water. Frodo squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, his whole body tense knowing what was coming.  
  
His tension turned into panic once he realized his had gone into the water. He unconsciously opened his eyes and mouth. The water streamed freely into his nose and mouth, and down his throat to his lungs. Frodo couldn't stand the burning sensation anymore and tried to shove his head up. Pippin leered cruelly realizing this and pushed even harder.  
  
Several second passed and Pippin no longer felt Frodo's resistance. He tugged his cousin's head up and watched contently as Frodo gasped desperately for air. It was far from enough, the air Frodo drew into his lungs, when Pippin once again drowned him.  
  
Frodo fought hard to turn his head from side to side. But again he failed. The grip on his hair became harsher and more hurtful. He slapped at the water in despair. Bubbles were coming out of his nose and mouth, to the surface. But Pippin still held him tightly, even longer this time.  
  
Soon Frodo's body became lax. He was still struggling for a moment, but then he gave up. He went still completely.  
  
Pippin released his grips on Frodo's arm and hair at once, and kicked Frodo a little but there was no response from him. Frodo moved just because he was floating in the water.  
  
With no trace of guilt on his face, Pippin smiled wickedly and walked out of the river, leaving the seemingly lifeless form behind.  
  
***  
  
As he steeped toward Merry's place, Pippin worked hard to turn his face into an innocent one. Merry couldn't find out what he had done. He had to pretend that everything had been an accident, should anyone ever find Frodo's body.  
  
Nearing the fire, Pippin came to realize that the situation had become so quiet. Merry no longer cried for help and there was no sound of his captors either. Pippin decided to hide behind the biggest tree to get a glimpse on Merry's attackers first. Who k new he might be able to find a way to get rid of them.  
  
Slowly he peeped out, but was taken aback by what he saw. No less than ten big folks were surrounding Merry. And those men had not come by horses, as there was no single horse in sight. They must have come by - Pippin was taken aback even more when looking at the creatures he didn't believe to see!  
  
They had to be the ugliest beings alive! And they were terrifyingly huge, too. Pippin had never heard stories about them, not even from Bilbo. He could only guess that they were a kind of wolf, but more hideous-looking. And there were hundreds of them, swarming over the forest and the hill as far as Pippin's eyes could see.  
  
Nervously, Pippin took himself back behind the tree, praying that nobody spotted his movement. He cringed and shivered silently. How could they, he and Merry, escape from those beasts?  
  
Then he heard Merry's voice again, though he couldn't catch the words. It was a bit bizarre for Pippin, as Merry didn't scream or sound afraid. Merry was laughing. That was it! He was laughing, and seemed to have a friendly chat with those men. Could that mean it was safe enough for Pippin to get out? He showed his head hesitantly, and stepped out of his hiding place.  
  
The noise he made attracted everybody's attention. The men turned around and spontaneously unsheathed whatever weapons they had. Pippin cried in surprise and ran back to the tree.  
  
"Merry!" he shouted in panic.  
  
There were sounds of steps on the dried leaves on the ground, followed by Merry's cheerful voice.  
  
"Ah, that must be my cousin, Pippin. He has just gone swimming with - ehm, in the river."  
  
In the middle of his words, Merry decided not to reveal Frodo's existence yet. Somehow he also knew that Pippin was coming by himself.  
  
"Come on out, Cousin. You need not be afraid. These men in fact, are going with us."  
  
What? Pippin looked in disbelief at this sudden insanity displayed by his lovely cousin.  
  
"Are you serious?" Pippin looked upset. So far Merry had always been the one to be relied upon. Had the time finally come to Pippin to be the most sensible hobbit who had to be responsible for everything?  
TBC 


	42. Chapter 42

Aelfgifu: Ha - ha! You know I won't kill Frodo. How right you are! And I made Pippin this evil because I felt tempted by some of the last reviews. I had written a bit before reading them but changed it completely. That really proves how nice it is to get your story reviewed! And - oh! I would LOVE to see Frodo in the bath scene. I'm looking forward to them.  
  
Alisaundre: Pact? Hmm..  
  
Endymion: Goodness! Apologize? But what's that for? No, no. I'm honestly glad to get any kinds of review. You see, my job is writing course books, so being criticized, in any forms, is my daily thing. About the wargs, actually I did some research in the Internet and found out that they come in the form of dog/wolf. So, that's not purely my idea. Mm, I kinda forgot to mention the orcs. But I will this chapter. Thanks. And I wouldn't say anything about Frodo's salvation if I were you. :D Tus too soon, although I am nearing the end of the story, too. Another Frodo story? I would love to do that!  
  
Krista: LOL. Wolves killing each other will be better! And sadly, I will have to finish the story some time. Probably a sequel, as someone mentioned before, is not a bad idea.  
  
John Lennon Across the Universe: Jessica, I read your essay on LOTR at frodand sam.net. Very interesting. I have to admit that although people know I love the movie very much, I wouldn't dare to openly talk about it. And strange but I think I can feel what you felt when your grandma gave a comment on Lij. I will usually feel relieved when people give good comments on something/one I like. Did you feel that too?  
  
Oddwen: John Rhys as Denethor?  
Warning: AU, angst  
Chapter 42  
One of the men nodded to Merry. The hobbit looked doubtful. He didn't say anything. Instead, he reached for Pippin's shoulder.  
  
"Pip, where is Frodo?" whispered Merry. Pippin froze. It shouldn't have worked this way. Merry couldn't have asked HIM. He should find Frodo himself or not find the hobbit at all. Pippin couldn't say anything about his own bad deed, for sure!  
  
So, he kept quiet, even when Merry reluctantly drew back and three or four men stepped forward and snatched Pip's arms. The young hobbit squeaked and protested confusedly when a man secured his wrists behind his back with a length of rope.  
  
"Mer - r - ry?" Pip went back to his old self once more.  
  
"Ssh!" Merry snapped irritatedly. "I promised them something. They are supposed to get Frodo. But instead, you came out alone. They don't want to wait any longer."  
  
The men continued tying Pippin up, not paying attention to Merry at all. Pip's heart sank. What actually had happened here?  
  
Looking at his cousin's eyes, Merry couldn't help feeling pity. Pip deserved at least a little information. Merry sighed heavily.  
  
"Relax, Pip," he whispered in Pippin's ear. "This is just for a while, you know, until Frodo returns. They will take him then."  
  
To be taken, even just for a short time, by these ruthless, big people didn't seem to be appealing for little Pippin. He thrashed forcefully, enraging many who got a hold on him.  
  
"Frodo!" he wailed. "Frodo is at the river!"  
  
Then his eyes went wide at a sudden realization.  
  
"But he is - he is dead!" his voice croaked.  
  
Dead! Merry gulped hard. He grabbed Pippin's jaw.  
  
"Is that right?! Where? How?"  
  
"He - he was drowned!" Pippin trembled violently. He started to regret what he had done. Because of his senseless outburst, he had put himself in a terrible situation. His mind went wild. What did men usually 'do' to their captives?  
  
Merry couldn't believe his ears. His precious jewel - drowned! No, not Frodo. He was like a fish in the water. He couldn't have drowned himself.  
  
"How could this happen, Pip?" He tightened his hand against the jaw. He felt enraged. This would definitely ruin his whole plan. Frodo was his key. Merry wasn't sure everything would go smoothly without the hobbit, who was such a dear to everyone.  
  
"I - " Merry touched a man's elbow. "This is not the one I mean, dear sir. He is still at the river. But we must go quickly!"  
  
Without waiting for an answer, he stormed away toward the river. His eyes swept along the surface and finally spotted a form floating a bit too far in the middle. Quickly Merry put off his shirt and coat, and jumped into the water. He grabbed Frodo's body and dragged it to the riverside. It was not too difficult as Frodo was not in his complete clothes and besides, he was awfully thin to begin with.  
  
Merry pulled him until they came to dry land, turned him over. Frodo looked terrible. He had turned bluish. There was a bruise on his chin where he had hit himself and on the shoulder where Pippin had gripped him. Merry could also see a trace of - blood? - on one of the corners of Frodo's pale lips. Groggily he bent down to Frodo's chest.  
  
Nothing. He couldn't feel any movement, pulse, or anything that could be the sign that Frodo was still alive. Frustrated, Merry slammed his fist sideway to Frodo's chest.  
  
"No!" he cried desperately. "You can't die now, Frodo! You're far too important to me. You must wake up! Wake up and tell me who did this to you. Was it Pippin? Was it Pippin, Frodo!?"  
  
He shook his cousin on the shoulders like a mad man. And worse, he was expecting to hear answers for his questions!  
  
Frodo! Merry gasped suddenly. Why all this madness? Why did everything have to end this way? For a moment, everything that had clouded his brain for some time was swept away. Merry was 'Merry' again. And this 'Merry' could only stare blankly at the frozen body in front of him. Why he ever came to this place was not even registered by his mind. A tear slipped gracefully down his cheek and stooped once more, scooping Frodo's face in his hands and gently kissing Frodo on his brow and both of his cheeks.  
  
They felt dreadfully cold.  
  
The Brandibuck was totally drowned in his misery. He still thought that Frodo was his dearest cousin - until he heard noisy steps approaching. Those men - and Pippin!  
  
His blood felt like boiling again. He had decided, once he laid down his eyes on this younger cousin, to still have Pippin kept by the big people, even if Frodo turned to be alive.  
  
Merry silently defended himself that none of these was his idea - turning over one of his cousins to the big people. He had to do something when he had been suddenly captured.  
  
/flashback/  
  
"Let me go!" he thrashed fiercely when two men got a grip on his arms. Yet all he got was only pain, as they would not release him.  
  
"Aahhh!" Merry screamed when the men pulled him tight to two directions, left and right. Not being able to do anything with the upper part of his body, Merry turned his struggle to his legs. Now he strove to kick the men ton his sides, front, and back. His struggle seemed to work as he heard some of them groan in pain.  
  
Huh! No one should take his sturdy and strong feet lightly. Indeed they didn't, as one of them, supposedly the leader, stomped hard on Merry's right foot. His hairy feet might be tough bit they didn't match with the man's booted one. Merry howled again, more loudly this time, only to be silenced at once by a stinging slap across the face. That subsided his fight altogether. He felt his eyes warm with tears. The man bent down and took Merry's curls. He whimpered.  
  
"We are sent from Isengard," said the man in a harsh tone. "Three men had left far earlier than us but they failed. Our lord doesn't want to risk any more failure, so here we are, men and those creatures!"  
  
He yanked Merry's head to the opposite direction, making some bones go cracking. If that hurt Merry, it would mean nothing compared to the horrible sight before his eyes. Hundreds of four-legged animals and their riders, none less frightening.  
  
"There are only few of us, men. The rest are these wargs and orcs. They are the one who will fight if necessary. We men are just dealing with tactics."  
  
The man was suddenly laughing, shocking Merry to death. He tried to squirm free.  
  
A hot sensation suddenly came from his pocket. The ring! Merry soon forgot his fear.  
  
"Why did you tell me all this? What is it that your lord wants?" he talked back.  
  
The man told Merry, who knew the answers immediately, Frodo and the ring. He cleared his throat.  
  
"What then, do you want to offer as a trade?" he asked calmly. The men's leader's brow creased deeply, surprised at Merry's sudden braveness.  
  
"Offer?" his voice thundered. "I won't give any offer. I will take what I'm ordered to take, even if it is you."  
  
"Ah," Merry breathed. His unfavorable condition gave a little effect to him, if not none. "But I'm not the one you're looking for." The man was stunned briefly, but then he nodded in agreement.  
  
"What will you do for me if I show you the correct hobbit?" asked Merry.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Hobbit. You men usually call us halflings."  
  
The men nodded again. He felt something was going wrong but he couldn't tell. It was as if his mind had gone dull. Shouldn't he be the one who threatened and scared this little creature off so he would spill out any information the man needed?  
  
"What do you want?" asked the man as though he were under a spell. Merry smiled victoriously.  
  
"I want you to help me. Come with me and do what I tell you to."  
  
"And we will get the halfling?" Merry tugged at his arms and surprisingly the men let them go just like that.  
  
"Yes, you will get him-" Merry looked hesitant at first. "Until - no. You will get the halfling," he promised eventually.  
  
/flashback/  
  
Now those people, who had mistakenly captured Pippin, looked down gravely at the paled form lying on the shore in front of Merry.  
  
"Is that the halfling we looked for?" asked the leader icily.  
  
Merry gazed up, streaks of tears still visible on his cheeks.  
  
"He - he is! But he is gone now. Oh, I don't know what I should do!" Merry hit Frodo's chest again and again. He was stopped suddenly, his hand held by the man.  
  
"No, that's not how it works. Here, you have to do this." The man put his hands, palm down, on the stiff hobbit's chest, and started to pump softly. "All right? But it's you who have to do this. My hands are too big. I can break his bones."  
  
Sobbing silently, Merry replaced the man's hands and started to do the same.  
TBC 


	43. Chapter 43

Zorra: Thanks for coming back. Keep on reading, Zorra. You might find your answers in later chapters. ^_^  
  
Endymion: Er, why does Saruman need Frodo? Why? I'm also in the dark here. Well, it seems like in the movie. He only said that he wanted the halfling without revealing what he actually needed, to the uruk hais. He didn't want the uruk hais to keep the ring for themselves, perhaps? And, yes. I completely agree with you about the resuscitation technique, though it's not really clear about the time frame in Middle Earth. During the middle age? Was it why Tolkien named the place 'Middle' Earth?  
  
Aelfgifu: Your ideas are interesting! But isn't it Merry supposed to be punished after what he's done?  
  
Alisaundre: Mm, I don't own the ring so I'm more or les the same with you, not knowing exactly how it works. I just see that it has its own wants. If it wants to stay, it will stay. And if it wants to go, it will go. Sequel? As this is getting harder for me to write, what about if we just finish it here and go directly to the sequel? :)  
  
Krista: Okay. Hope you're still there when this chapter comes up. Sorry for the waiting!  
  
QTPie: Wow! Bravo! Congratulations and thank you for keeping on reading!  
  
John Lennon Across the Universe: Lovely Frodo is here, babe.  
AN: And wow! Now I feel that writing here is like taking a writing course itself. Your precious comments really help me shape and reshape my thoughts. And please, if you have any comments on my grammar or diction, feel free to let me know. Because, although it is going to be betaed by emma, I'm often too lazy (!) to update with the revised versions. (Sorry, emma!)  
Warning: AU, changing of POVs  
Chapter 43  
"I can't! I can't do it!" shouted Merry after several minutes pumping at Frodo's chest. No, hitting it was more likely. He had actually been doing fine after some point a moment ago until Frodo suddenly jolted and seemed to breathe again. Merry almost jump in joy.  
  
But then it stopped - the movement from the chest. Frodo didn't move anymore. Or had he actually never done that? Was it only Merry's imagination - for Frodo now looked more dead than before. And more peaceful.  
  
Merry howled in rage. He resumed his effort, but he did nothing the same as before. Blinded with angry tears, Merry grew impatient and his pumping turned to pumping.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
I didn't know what came into Pippin's mind. His grip on my shoulder shot an excruciating pain, weakening me. He, on the other hand, seemed to have become much stronger.  
  
Yet I still tried to run away again when I managed to free myself. But he then kicked me hard on the small of my back, sending me lying face down in the river. The next thing I knew was he was twisting my left hand behind my back.  
  
I couldn't stand it. I screamed in agony. But instead of releasing me, he grabbed my hair, yanked it backward, and pushed me down to the water. I didn't have to guess what he was going to do. I whimpered horrifiedly but my whimper was soon muffled when my head was shoved into the water.  
  
Streams of liquid flooded into my mouth and nose though I tried hard to close the mouth and hold my breath. I almost lost my senses if not because of the sting inside my nose and down my throat. I didn't know if I was still gasping. That would bring me more pain.  
  
And right when my lungs felt like going to burst out, the harsh grip pulled my head up, away from the water.  
  
Elbereth! It was now the air that pained me so as it speeded up into my system. Tears flowed down as I panted miserably.  
  
But it all had been nothing compared to how I felt when Pippin, once more, drowned me. I felt like the world exploded before my eyes and the sudden attack by the water into my open mouth left me with an acid taste. Had it been bleeding profusely inside my mouth and throat?  
  
My body went limp, but I still didn't want to give up. My free hand - the right one - was doing something I didn't even know. But that was the last thing I realized doing. Slowly tiredness came over me. I was tired. That was all I could feel. I was too tired to try to push my head up. I was tired to gasp for air, which seemed to prefer to hide away from me, to do something with my hand, to struggle. I didn't care about what was happening anymore.  
  
Unconsciously I closed my eyes. I started to feel warm and I saw a light flashing in my mind. The light got stronger and I felt no more pain or fear. It was very nice, safe, and peaceful.  
  
Yet, when I was about to enter the white light, I felt something strong push on my chest. Then all of a sudden all came back, the pain, the need to reach for air, the despair.  
  
But something inside myself pulled me back to the light and once more, I felt safe.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
Merry looked up at the man angrily. He had finally stopped trying to make Frodo breathe again.  
  
"I have failed. YOU have failed. Your technique didn't help at all to bring Frodo back alive!"  
  
The man opened his mouth wanting to give his objection, but Merry got there faster.  
  
"Be silent! I don't want to hear your excuses! Do you realize that you have jeopardized my plan? You have to do something or you will get nothing either!"  
  
The men's leader knew that it was impossible for him to do what Merry did to Frodo. He was too strong. He might kill him at once instead. He looked at Frodo's pale form and wondered why this little halfling could be very important. But he didn't say anything. He just motioned to one of his men. The latter nodded and went away.  
  
The man was back a moment later with a small phial with green liquid in it.  
  
"What's that?" Merry frowned suspiciously. The leader shook his head.  
  
"Nothing. Just a kind of elixir to warm yourself. Each of us brings one like this."  
  
Merry watched, still with suspicion, as the man open the lid of the phial, put the small bottle on the ground, and reached for his knife.  
  
"Hey!" yelled Merry. But the man ignored him. He sliced the tip of his finger, making Merry gasp with surprise. Then the man took the phial and added some drops of blood from the cut finger into it.  
  
"You - Why---" Merry had never seen anything like this before but hope started to rise.  
  
"I don't know if it will work. You must add the liquid with blood before you drink it. It worked wondrously at me some time ago when the temperature suddenly dropped. But I don't know if it can help your friend. I can see he is freezing. That's why it came to my mind to try this."  
  
"Cut it out!" Merry was becoming impatient. "or it won't have any effect at all."  
  
The man kneeled down and pinched at Frodo's chin, parting his small lips. He then pored the reddish green solution between them, and something that Merry was afraid of happened. Frodo would not swallow. It was as if his system had been shut off.  
  
The leader tried another strategy. He squeezed Frodo's nose. Nothing happened in a moment, Merry staring at the hobbit while holding his breath. Then - thanks oh, dear Eru! A miracle came. Frodo gulped down the liquid quite smoothly.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
I stood there looking around in disappointment. The big light had gone. Although the 'room' was not entirely dark, it got dimmer every second, until what I could sense was emptiness. Peaceful but empty. I could also feel the coldness now, instead of warmth.  
  
Soft breeze sent me chills around and in my body. I took that as a strange sign. First it was cold. What would be the next? Pain? I hugged myself as it got more and more freezing. And that was the time when I realized that I was only wearing my breeches. I wore nothing else to protect me from the cold.  
  
Slowly I lowered down and got crumpled on the ground. I drew my knees closer to my chin and embraced them tightly while trying hard to stop my chattering teeth. Oh, how cold it was!  
  
Soon I felt myself lying on the icy ground, still curled up helplessly. But I still didn't get the warmth I desperately needed. So I just lay there waiting for whatever that would happen. I closed myself miserably.  
  
The air was moving and suddenly I felt that I was not alone anymore. And to my surprise, I felt a touch on my locks. I didn't want to open my eyes but I didn't flinch either. It was as if instinctively I knew that the touch was not a threat.  
  
Those fingers continued on stroking at my hair. I purred contentedly and felt so sleepy.  
  
"Frodo." A voice. A woman? I stretched a little. The hand was still caressing my hair.  
  
"Frodo. Open your eyes, dear. You're not allowed to stay here. Not just yet."  
  
But the caress was becoming so comfortable. I wanted to protest why I was not allowed to be here. I slowly opened my eyes.  
  
She was a beautiful hobbit. A hobbit! At this place like this. But, what place was it anyway? Her soft, dark curls and deep blue eyes reminded me of someone. Of myself! Who was she?  
  
"Who are you?" I asked curiously. She laughed softly.  
  
"It's always like this with you, Frodo. Always want to know everything. Why, don't tell me you're forgetting your own mama!"  
  
Mama! I choked. But mama was --- Hmm, where was my mama?  
  
"Don't you miss me, Frodo lad?"  
  
I really didn't know what to say. Was I supposed to miss her? I yawned widely.  
  
"Frodo!"  
  
"I'm tired, mama. I feel so sleepy. Please let me sleep." Without waiting for her answer, I shut my eyes and drifted away. But something snapped me awake. My eyes fluttered open - only to find that my mama was gone.  
  
I didn't know why. I still couldn't place my mother in my mind. I knew of course that she was 'her', but I couldn't tell why I suddenly felt very sad by her disappearance. I shut my eyes tightly, and sobbed quietly.  
  
There was something in the corner of my eyes. Mer - Merry? I almost shouted in ecstasy. He was here too!  
  
"Merry!" I called him out. But the figure was not facing me. In fact, he was walking away from me. I braced myself and stood up.  
  
"Merry, don't leave me here alone!"  
  
But it was no use. So I decided to run after him. Perhaps this would help get rid of the cold.  
  
With another shout at Merry's name, I darted toward him. But strangely, he, too, seemed to be speeding. I didn't care. I ran and ran until my lungs felt like it was going to explode.  
TBC 


	44. Chapter 44

Blue Jedi Hobbit: Er - I dont know for sure if it was intentional. Just want to try something different, I guess. In fact, I asked a friend about using 'I' style while I've never used it before. She was not certain either.  
  
QTPie: I'm trying my best to write on!  
  
Krista: Good luck with your exam! BTW, I'm also continuing my study and the exams will be coming in a week or two. But I'd rather writing this than study! :)  
  
MBradford: Thanks very much!  
  
Aelfgifu: Even if Merry does punish Pippin, I'm sure I would never be able to write as amazingly as your Merry-punishing-Pippin. ^_^  
  
Alisaundre: I read here and there and went inside my head, and - pop! Here came the elixir! Glad you liked it!  
  
Endymion: I know some people might not believe such an experience. The explanation in my religion is different, too.  
Warning: AU  
Chapter 44  
"Frodo, you're back!" Merry hugged Frodo tightly until the hobbit's body was lifted up from the ground. Merry seemed to ignore the galons of water flowing out of Frodo's mouth.  
  
"Leave him alone," said the man to Merry, who then reluctantly pulled himself back.  
  
Frodo coughed hard continuously, still throwing out the river water he had gulped down. Yet he still felt as if he were going to blow up. Frodo turned to Merry, his dimming blue eyes full with tears.  
  
"It - hurts," choked Frodo feebly. Again he coughed terribly, throwing his head back in misery. Merry couldn't stand it. Once more he took Frodo to his arms. The pained hobbit leaned his head to Merry's chest thankfully.  
  
"Please stay, Merry."  
  
"Of course, Frodo. Everything will be fine. Don't worry, beloved." Merry stroked his hair tenderly. "The most important thing is that you are alive."  
  
Pippin shot his eyes widely at that sight, squirming against the hold of two men. This couldn't be happening!  
  
"Merry!" he shouted angrily, yet desperately. But the older hobbit ignored him, busy listening to the leader's explanation.  
  
"...... apparently had warmed his body, enough to free his lungs from the clutches of the coldness of the water."  
  
Frodo seemed to be listening, too, with his half-closed eyes. He felt the pain in his chest lessen. What was left was tiredness. His body felt like turning into jelly, boneless, without any will power to stay awake. He didn't even care when Merry tried to find out what had really happened from him. Frodo simply looked away. How was he supposed to remember? He couldn't remember anything. And he still couldn't even when his eyes accidentally met Pippin's threatening glance. What was that supposed to mean?  
  
Frodo hitched a little when he was suddenly snatched off of Merry's warm embrace and pulled up by his arms by the men's leader. He moaned softly as everything seemed to spin around. Then the hobbit landed none too gently on the man's shoulder. A hoof went involuntarily out of his small lips.  
  
"He comes with me," grunted the man, turning away. Merry's jaw dropped. "You can keep that one," nodded the man at Pippin's direction.  
  
Pippin smirked devilishly as the two men released him. But he immediately closed his mouth when catching Merry's sharp glare at him.  
  
Terror slowly crept in him, making his breath difficult. Merry knew. He had got to be! Or at least he could guess that he was the one to be blamed for what had come to Frodo. Shivers ran down his spine. He forced himself not to think of what was in Merry's mind now, things he would do to his short- minded cousin - HIM!  
  
But it seemed whatever Merry would do to him could still wait. Pippin took a relieved breath as Merry turned away from him the next second to run after the man.  
  
"Hey, you!" Pippin heard Merry shout and saw him run as fast as his small and short legs could bring him.  
  
Merry stopped at the sight of the man mounting Frodo on one of the wargs - the wolf-faced beast - and gasped loudly. The other men and orcs around looked at him horrifyingly.  
  
"Ah, I almost forgot about you," said the man casually, while dressing up Frodo with his garment, leaving the hobbit looking silly in the size more than doubled for him. Frodo seemed to be in a daze himself, not quite aware of what was happening with him. Looking at the strange faces of the orcs earlier, he even thought he was still in a dream. But seeing Merry, a word was formed on his lips, soundlessly.  
  
'Mer - ry'  
  
Merry saw that, and he stepped forward, only to be stopped by a hand on his breath.  
  
"Uh - huh," the leader waved his forefinger, disagreeing of Merry's movement. But he motioned his man to stay away from the hobbit.  
  
"Deal is deal. I gave you back the other halfling and I got this one here. And by the way, are you coming with us?" he asked, still in his nonchalant manner. "I'm sure your little pony back there won't be able to catch up with us. You know, you can always ride with us."  
  
Merry's lips trembled with fear. How could he be sure these folks were going to keep their words? His fingers slowly crawled toward his pocket. The Ring. That was actually that they wanted. They wouldn't want Frodo anymore if he gave the Ring to them, would they?  
  
"Wait!" He heard himself squeak. Without even realizing it, the Ring had curled up in his palm, which was shot wide open to the man.  
  
"Take it! Take this thing. This is all your lord needs. Now let go off Frodo!"  
  
***  
  
"Strider! I can feel it now!" cried Sam, standing up, legs wide apart. "The earth is shaking!"  
  
"I know," replied the ranger. "I've known it for quite a long time now. And whatever they are, they are getting nearer."  
  
Ted was awakened and leaned on his elbows. He seemed like to say something but decided otherwise. His face turned red. Strider caught the changes in his face.  
  
"You have something to say, Ted?"  
  
Sam walked toward the two. What was happening?  
  
"What is it, Strider? Something's wrong?"  
  
Strider shrugged.  
  
"Maybe. Maybe not. But I believe Ted knows something about the growling at the ground."  
  
Ted shifted restlessly. His eyes darted alternately from Strider to Sam. He denied Strider's words.  
  
"I don't! Why should I?"  
  
Strider kneeled down beside Ted's lying form.  
  
"I don't know. But if you knew something, you'd better say. The sooner the better. This is a matter of life and death!"  
  
Sam dropped down, and grasped Ted's both hands, squeezing them in his own. His voice croaked.  
  
"Mr. Frodo is in a grief danger, Mr. Ted! Please, what are they? Some kind of evil thing?" he shivered.  
  
Ted looked at Sam in the eye, finally giving in.  
  
"I don't know for sure, Sam," he said slowly. "But I heard something about these orcs-"  
  
"Orcs!" Sam's eyes went huge.  
  
"- that can go very fast riding these wargs," continued Ted. Sam tilted his head. This he had never heard before.  
  
"W - wargs?"  
  
"Yes. They don't ride on horses, but wargs. They look like wolves but bigger, much bigger."  
  
"How big are they?" This time it was Strider.  
  
"More or less the same as horses but much sturdier. And their strong, short, big legs make them stronger than horses."  
  
"Oh, no!" Sam hid his face in his hands. This was all too scary. They had to find Frodo as soon as possible. Sam sobbed. What would those creatures do to his master?  
  
Strider stood up suddenly.  
  
"Strange," he mumbled. "I can't hear and feel them anymore. Are they stopping?  
  
Sam paled, gulping down. That could only mean one thing: they had found Frodo!  
  
"Oh, Strider! We should go now!" howled Sam. "If Frodo is not too far, we must be able to catch up with him soon."  
  
As Ted had got much better this time, Strider agreed to get going. He helped Ted go up his horse and then led the small group in its long and tiring quest.  
  
It was after several moments of walking that the group felt something below their feet again. They looked at each other in horror. The wargs were moving again!  
  
***  
  
Huh?!  
  
Merry's mind was brought back to reality. What had been in his mind - giving away the Ring in exchange to Frodo? He had to be out of his mind! He might have pity for that broken hobbit. But giving up his biggest chance to conquer and be the master of Middle Earth? That would be the most ridiculous thing ever!  
  
" - you can always ride with us." Merry could still hear the man's words. "And of course your pitiful little friend behind you, too," the man continued on, while coiling a length of rope around Frodo's waist and tied the end of it at the warg's saddle.  
  
"Sorry. I know you won't try to run away," he patted Frodo at the head. Frodo flinched a little. "But I don't want to risk it. This way you may try to jump anytime you like. You will just end up being dragged by our little warg here. That can be very painful, you know."  
  
Frodo just whimpered. His mind was still clouded.  
  
Merry turned around to find Pippin's pathetic face. He was enraged again.  
  
"What are you doing here? I don't want to see your ugly little face anymore. Go away! Stay away from me!"  
TBC 


	45. Chapter 45

AN: Emma, I follow the way you put the reviewers' acknowledgment after the chapter. It's because many questions are hopelessly answered in it.  
Warning: AU, violence  
Chapter 45  
Pippin couldn't believe what he had just heard. Go a - away? In the middle of the wild like this, where there were only a river, threes, and wild beasts like those before his eyes? Who knew many more would come? It was the cruelest punishment ever! Pippin started to tremble. His mouth opened and shut again, making him like a fish out of the water. He knew he had to say something but that was just so difficult.  
  
Meanwhile Merry had turned his back on Merry and walked without once looking back. Pippin sobbed and ran after his older cousin. Merry was stopped, suddenly unable to move, as Pippin's arms went around his knees, hugging him tightly. Merry tried to keep on walking but Pippin didn't want to let go. He was unbelievably strong all of a sudden.  
  
"Let me go!" hissed Merry.  
  
"Merry, please!" Pippin stammered pleadingly. "Don't leave me here. I will die!"  
  
"That will be for the better, Pip, you good for nothing hobbit!"  
  
Pippin shrank back at the terrible name.  
  
"I - I am sorry, Merry. Really I am!"  
  
Merry boiled as the incident was back in his mind.  
  
"I'm not sure, Pip. I can't let you come along and risk my plan again," said Merry angrily.  
  
"I won't, Merry. I promise! Do whatever you want to do to me as long as I still can come with you."  
  
"I'm not going to do anything to you, Pip. I just don't want you anymore."  
  
"No!" Pippin tightened his grip.  
  
"Release me at once, Pip!" Merry growled.  
  
And although he still hung on Merry for another moment, finally Pip gave up. He let go off his cousin, who suddenly turned around and swung his hand fast, backhanding Pippin hard on his right cheek. Having implicitly asked for his punishment earlier didn't make Pippin ready for this sudden slap. He caught his breath. Everything was suddenly blurred. But he didn't dare to complain. He just raised his hand to rub his abused cheek.  
  
"Well?" asked Merry impatiently. "Was that what you wanted?" He didn't wait for an answer, though, as anger still consumed him. He even resumed his beating, over and over, until Pippin felt a terrible sting on each of his cheeks. Tears were welling in his eyes. He looked up at Merry fearfully.  
  
"Is that enough?" asked Merry coldly. Pippin shuddered at the harsh tone. He recalled the torments his cousin had made Frodo suffer and realized that Merry was capable of doing just about anything.  
  
"I'm asking you! Is that enough!?" repeated Merry while sending a hard kick to Pippin's stomach. Pippin reeled, groaning miserably. That was unexpected and so painful! He was so deep in his agony that he was difficult to think, let alone speak. And that enraged Merry even more.  
  
"I ask you once more---"  
  
"I - I don't know--" Pippin stuttered.  
  
"You - don't - know?!" Merry punctuated his words, wondering. "Then that will be up to me!"  
  
Pippin couldn't do anything but nod dreadfully. He knew he had made a mistake and asked for his own punishment, after all.  
  
"But please allow me to come with you, Merry," begged him.  
  
Merry was silent. He just rained down Pippin with more kicking, leaving the poor hobbit to lie panting on the ground. Pippin didn't even try to curl up his body, afraid that it would infuriate Merry more. So he just lay by his side, letting Merry landed his foot, and bruised his stomach and many other parts of his body. Pippin's eyes began to roll to the back, consciousness starting to leave him. Blood was spurted out of his mouth when he coughed hard. Darkness finally engulfed him with Merry still punishing him.  
  
***  
  
Frodo flinched as the first slap landed on Pippin's cheek. He suddenly remembered the frightening experience as he looked at Pippin's face. Nothing seemed to veil his mind anymore. He recalled it clearly. Yet, he couldn't approve Merry's thrashing hard at Pippin.  
  
"Merry, no!" he cried, trying to free himself.  
  
"Ssh, little one. Where are you going?" laughed the man from behind. "You don't have to try to stop them. Let them fight. I think my men and the orcs need some entertainment!"  
  
Frodo's eyes grew wide. Entertainment? Did that mean letting Merry and Pippin kill each other? No! He wouldn't let them.  
  
Frodo swung his elbow to the back, finding out directly that it caught the man hard either at his chest or stomach as he heard the man grunt in pain. Unfortunately it wasn't hard enough to make the man lose grip on him. Instead, the man put his palm on Frodo's abdomen, pressing the hobbit further back. Frodo writhed uncomfortably.  
  
"What do you want?" snarled the man. "I won't free you. Ever. We've made a deal. I will keep you until I get what I want, a piece of land and power in Rivendell! Ha - ha - ha!"  
  
Frodo frowned. Rivendell! Ah, Merry did tell him something about going there. But Frodo barely knew the purpose. Power and land? That was impossible. No, not his Merry! Frodo resumed his attempt when sensing the man's hold loosen a bit. This was his chance. He struggled and jumped off!  
  
- but how come did he ever forget about the rope!? He was jerked backward and landed hard on his arse. Frodo cursed himself, more on his foolishness than on the pain on his back.  
  
"Hey! Where are you going, rat - oh! Ha - ha - ha!" A roar of laughter from the man exploded again as he witnessed the hobbit's silly action. He reached down and squeezed Frodo's shoulder, ready to haul him up that way.  
  
"Aah, please!" heaved Frodo. "The rope - please untie me. I won't run away from you. I just have to go to Merry."  
  
But the man wouldn't buy it. He stooped from above the warg and grabbed Frodo's upper arms. Frodo felt his delicate bones were ready to crack.  
  
"Noo!" he screamed through clenched teeth. But his shout was silenced as he saw that Pippin was not moving anymore while Merry was still kicking him. Frodo cringed at the imagined hurt.  
  
"Merry!" Frodo's voice croaked. "That's enough!"  
  
Merry turned at the sound of his cry. The corrupted hobbit's eyes shone wildly. But thank Elbereth, he finally ceased his thrashing. Frodo took a deep breath. He smiled weakly at the approaching cousin of his. He was still lying on the ground but luckily the man was no longer holding him. He gazed up at Merry who was standing before him, happily, like a lad to a father who had just arrived home. Frodo was sure Merry was going to take him away from this cruel man.  
  
But what truly happened was far from that. Unexpectedly, Merry slapped Frodo across his face so hard that Frodo's head jerked to the side. His eyes got teary at the stinging burn.  
  
Frodo sent an uncomprehending and fearful look through his glassy eyes.  
  
"Merry - why?" he trembled.  
  
"You are not--" Merry waved his forefinger at Frodo's face. "- to meddle at my affair!"  
  
Frodo recoiled. Sadness and terror filled his eyes. He really couldn't understand this. Merry had been so gentle to him. What had he done to deserve this? Meddling at his affair - beating up Pippin? Suddenly realization came to him. Of course! How could he be so stupid? Merry was punishing Pippin because he had tried to kill him! Merry had been so kind as to defend him, and what had he done? Stopping him instead of helping him! How ungrateful Frodo was!  
  
Frodo bowed his head deeply, not daring even to glance at his cousin. He just let the man when he yanked Frodo up on the warg's back again, and sat there timidly and submissively. He just heard, not looked, when Merry went to another warg with already a man on it and mounted it.  
  
"We're going to Rivendell!" Merry shouted loudly and clearly. Silently Frodo admired his brave and strong cousin. A hobbit as small as he was! Frodo was, finally, looking at Merry in awe when the big group started to move, slowly at first but gradually it went faster. He completely forgot about the unconscious hobbit they left lying on the ground.  
TBC  
All right! That's it. Now, to  
  
Alisaundre: Gandalf and Saruman? (scratching head)  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: Hey, I'm not asking! And thanks for that. It can be useful fro me!  
  
John Lennon Across the Universe: "Maybe letting Frodo die would have been less painful for the poor little thing." Aww, Jessica. You made me shudder with your comment! Eh, I have! I have! The War - hm, love it! Although it is sad.  
  
Endymion: Merry never prefers Frodo to Pippin. He is only thinking of his plan for which he will need Frodo. If he seems to be soft on his cousin, that is probably his way to still have control on him. Oh, no! I made a silly mistake again! What I mean by 'hoof' is a sound Frodo made when he was thrown to the man's shoulder. Maybe I should have put the word in between asterisks? Thanks for liking my story although it is weird!  
  
NarsilC: Thank you for reading it at the first place. I'm looking forward to hearing more from you.  
  
Aelfgifu: O - oh. The many questions indicate that my story is confusing! Yes, there were men and orcs although the orcs don't have a lot to say yet.  
  
Krista: Don't worry. I'm not going to change the story. I know it's twisted because I'm twisted myself! RRRRR!!!!!!!!! Mm, instinct? No. Actually I have already the story plot in my mind. I made small turns here and there based on the feedback I got. And fight, between whom do you think it will be? ^_^ 


	46. Chapter 46

AU: Surprised! Here is a new chapter for you all, my beautiful reviewers. It's a gift to you because the next 2 days I will take a holiday - and I'm very happy! - and I might not be near any computer and internet! Thanks for Krista, QTPie, endymion and Emma for the last reviews.  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
Chapter 46  
They wasted no time at all. All the men and the orcs rode their wargs as fast as they could, paying no attention to their passengers, the two hobbits.  
  
Spurred by the adrenaline in his system, Merry didn't find the fast pace as a problem. But the opposite, on the other hand, happened to Frodo. Not having fully recovered from his semi-death experience, Frodo hardly managed to condition his body to adjust to the high speed. Soon he felt his head start to spin around. Cold sweat drenched all over his body and his stomach churned, ready to spill over its content. Frodo gradually felt his vision blur.  
  
"Sir-" he managed to let out in the middle of his panting breaths. "Could - slow - down - please -?"  
  
He felt much worse now. And all of a sudden the warg he rode on made a high jump over a small bush and landed hard, knocking air out of him. He couldn't hold back any longer, and he heaved, luckily, to the side. But the sour-smelled liquid still spilled on the leader's arm, enraging him.  
  
"You!" he yanked Frodo's hair to the back until the hobbit's tearful eyes met his. "Don't you do that again!"  
  
Frodo nodded his head despite the hand locked in his curls. He was a bit relieved, though, after throwing up. And thank Eru, the man slowed down his warg a bit.  
  
The journey tired Frodo so and he ended up sleeping almost at the entire of it. He didn't even realize when they finally stopped after a day and a night run, to eat. They apparently didn't eat as often as hobbits. Merry grimaced over the fact. He was not only starving but also dying as hell!  
  
He eyed with great interest to the meat and bread brought out by the men. He was sure he could eat all of them! He jumped off from the warg and ran to Frodo who was still curling up on the ground even after the man released him from the leash and took him down.  
  
Frodo squeezed his eyes shut, too exhausted and weak to get up, let alone eat. He had no appetite at all. The thought and smell of food made him feel sick even more.  
  
"Frodo!" Merry pulled his shoulder. "Get up and eat your share. Collect it from the men over there."  
  
Frodo's lids fluttered open a little but closed again even more tightly.  
  
"Not - hungry," he mumbled weakly. He really wasn't. He had no intentions at all to move his body. If only Merry just left him alone, he thought miserably.  
  
But Merry wouldn't leave Frodo alone. Reaching out, he tilted the lying hobbit's chin but immediately pulled his hand back.  
  
"Gods, you are burning!" he exclaimed. Indeed. Frodo knew when this was coming. The fever.  
  
"That makes it even more important that you eat, Frodo! You'll get worse otherwise."  
  
Frodo barely heard his cousin's words, though it surprised him, too, why Merry seemed so concerned with his well-being. Ah, right. Of course. Merry cared for him very much. That was why.  
  
Suddenly Frodo felt himself being lifted up. Two men, each on his side, grasped his arms and dragged him to the group of the others sitting around the fire. None of them heeded his protest.  
  
"Let go, uuhhh--" He had no energy to struggle, though. In fact, he felt terribly dizzy and he let his head loll backward while he was being carried. Everything seemed hazy.  
  
Half a moment later he felt his being lowered down and gratefully he resumed his fetal position. But when he was about to drift to slumber, a hand patted his cheek softly.  
  
"Come on, Frodo. I know you are sick. But you need to eat something. Sit up!" Merry helped him shift to a sitting position. Frodo grumbled unconsciously and opened his heavy-lidded eyes. Merry put a piece of meat on his palm without saying anything. Frodo looked at it in dismay. The meat was dried and dark. He didn't want to know how it was cooked. And the smell made him feel sicker. He stretched his hand out while shaking his head. Merry sighed.  
  
"Look, Frodo. I'm not in the mood to force you eat seeing that you are that sick. But it's for your own good. We don't want you to fade away."  
  
Tears flowed freely down Frodo's cheeks. He was sick, really sick, and he didn't want to eat anything. He couldn't. Didn't Merry realize that? He couldn't stand to even think about food. And - fade away? Frodo put the meat on top of the pile of the other slices and hugged his legs, drawing them close to his chest. He rocked back and forth, his memory going back to the place where he saw the bright, white light. If that was how it felt to fade away, how desperately he wanted to go back there.  
  
Frodo blurrily gazed around at the many of beastly-looking faces of the orcs. He felt himself so small and helpless in the middle of them. Yes. The big light would be the most perfect escape.  
  
The thought warmed his agonized heart and he slowly drew back to bottomless sleep.  
  
***  
  
"Your highness! The guards on the north borders located a spot on the horizon that is getting bigger and bigger!"  
  
Having their conversation interrupted by such intriguing news, both Gandalf and Lord Elrond rose from their seats.  
  
"A spot!" exclaimed the Lord of Rivendell. "Anything else? If not, go back and return here immediately after you gather more information." Waving his right hand, he sent the courier away.  
  
When the young elf was no longer in sight, Elrond turned to Gandalf. Both went back to sit down.  
  
"What do you think, my friend? Will they be friendly faces or not??  
  
Gandalf was deep in his thought.  
  
"North?" he muttered as if to himself. "There is the Shire in the north but I have great doubts that the spot we see are the halflings as they are quite reluctant to get out of their comfortable holes."  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"No. That sounds so absurd, even just to imagine. They are rather - cowardice, if I may say - and they don't really care for what is happening in the outside world."  
  
"Hmm," Elrond mused at the lecture from the old wizard.  
  
"Anyway," added Gandalf. "There are two fellow hobbits of mine that I know for sure their courage and braveness." He chucked a little. "Bilbo, of course, and the other one is--"  
  
As if suddenly struck by a lightning, Gandalf jumped up. His eyes almost popped out.  
  
"Frodo!"  
  
He remembered the vision he had some time ago. He had told Elrond about that but neither of them knew how to proceed. They had no idea where to find him, but that didn't stop Gandalf to regret why they didn't even try to.  
  
"Elrond," called Gandalf. "Prepare your best elves! I don't know what is coming over but I sense something foul. And my heart is telling me that it has something to do with Bilbo's dearest nephew!"  
  
***  
  
Frodo stirred, yawning widely, and in the middle of his hazy feeling he was sadly realizing that he was back on the animal's back and tied securely again. However, he was glad to have spent some time dozing off for he felt much better now. The nauseated feeling that had engulfed him since he was brought out of the water was no longer threatening him. It was just this warg that was running wildly in full speed that made him uncomfortable. And the man behind him had not said anything although Frodo was sure he knew of his waking up. The man just tightened his gripping arm around Frodo's waist.  
  
They were not leading the group. In fact, Frodo was just aware of this; they seemed to be always surrounded by orcs in the front, back, and at the two sides. To protect him? Frodo doubted that. And he could not locate Merry. He had to be way ahead of them.  
  
All of a sudden, Frodo felt the man grow tense and in the mean time the orcs around them started to shout out words in a language that Frodo hardly recognized. Frodo tilted his head up to ask the man but he hushed Frodo even before words were spoken. He kept on speeding but, like a déjà vu to Frodo, a flying thing suddenly sliced the air with a wheezing sound. Frodo knew that had to be an arrow even before he heard a loud grunt that followed. It had hit an orc apparently.  
  
That didn't make the man slow down. With a piercing yell he unsheathed his long, heavy sword and leant forward, pressing Frodo to the warg and squeezing him. What was it? Frodo's mind went wild. Who was attacking them?  
  
Some of the men who were equipped with bows and arrows started to shoot. So when the first enemy came in sight, he was directly welcomed by an arrow that was flying directly to his chest. Frodo caught sight of him falling down with a screeching noise, and gasped in shock. The slender body and long, fair hair could not cheat Frodo's eyes. He was an elf! Frodo thrashed wildly in the man's grip, shuddering at how these men had killed an elf.  
  
TBC 


	47. Chapter 47

AN: Hi, I'm back! Thanks a lot for your wonderful reviews! And for those who read without reviewing, I hope you enjoy the story too! Sorry I haven't had the chance to reply each of you. I promise I will give my replies in the next chapter. Meanwhile, enjoy!!!!!  
  
Chapter 47  
  
Warning: AU  
  
It was not the rumbling noise of the leaving warg pack or Merry's loud shout that had awakened Pippin. It was, rather, the creepy silence in the woods that was only filled with wind blowing high on the trees and splashing sound of the river water. No more. No human's talking or animals' grunt or, the one he got used to, Frodo's whimpers.  
  
Pippin shivered at the fact hat he was totally alone there, all over his body screaming with pain from aches and burns. He had been lying flat on his stomach with his head turning to the right. Something thick and wet was trailing down his lips and Pippin half remembered he had spat blood during Merry's ill treatment toward him.  
  
Merry.  
  
The name echoed in his mind and sent more shivers down his spine. Merry had been so harsh and unexpected when delivering kicks and blows to him. And for what? Pippin moved, sat up, and embraced his folded legs to his body. He was weeping silently when the answer to his question came and hit him painfully in his heart. For - for trying to murder Frodo, drowning his own cousin into the river!  
  
"Mama," he cried softly.  
  
What had got into his mind, and Merry's as well? Everything was suddenly rushing back into his memory. This all started what seemed like years ago when Merry had turned into a ruthless person toward Frodo. And he had not been alone since he, Pippin, had helped him so willingly. Pippin was not sure why. Merry was indeed an older cousin he respected a lot. He was also the closest person and some kind of a mentor to him. Pippin was close to Frodo but not that close since they'd never spent so much time together.  
  
But that didn't explain why Pippin needed to take part in all the madness. Madness! Yes, the word fit perfectly. He and Merry must have been disgustingly mad. They even tormented Frodo to the point when Frodo finally broke and nearly went crazy. He even lost part of his memory now!  
  
Pippin clamped his hands over his face, trying to muffle his own scream. This was all too scary! He was crying still although soon he became too exhausted and what was left were his hitching breaths. His mind didn't want to stop its bombardment with old memories, though, as it reminded Pippin now how he had hit Sam hard until they all though the hobbit was dead, and he repeated it by hitting the ranger!  
  
Oh. OH!! He couldn't stand it anymore. There was practically nothing he could do to pay for all his wrongdoings. He even couldn't think of any punishments that were worth for him. He didn't deserve to live, that was for sure!  
  
Never had the hobbit felt so wretched and miserable. He desperately wanted to be back in his smial, safe in his mother's cuddle, and wished that all of these had never happened. But dear Peregrin Took, a voice in a small corner of his mind reminded, this all REALLY happened.  
  
Pippin let himself slide down the forest bed, still curling up. Ah, if only he could just disappear to the earth and never had to face to talk to anyone about what he had done---  
  
Deep in his own misery, Pippin barely caught the sounds of bristling leaves and broken twigs. Someone was coming! And he was a second too late when his eyes snapped open and quickly got away, trying to find a hiding place.  
  
"Hey, wait!" The call only encouraged him more to run.  
  
***  
  
Suddenly, everything turned to a slow motion before Frodo's eyes. The fall of the elves, the coming of more elves on horses, the wild cries of the orcs upon their wargs while welcoming those elves, and himself turning to the left and right trying to get free.  
  
His breaths had become ragged ones now, panic being all over his heart and soul. Merry! Where was his cousin now? He had to tell him to tell the men and orcs to cease their action that looked more like elf hunting to him. They couldn't do this! This was all wrong. Elves were fair and just creatures. They were all beings of the light. If the men and orcs attacked them, it would mean that those men and orcs were the bad people for it was impossible to be otherwise.  
  
Frodo squeezed his eyes shut. Bilbo had always told him stories about elves that had encouraged him to learn their tongue, and made him eager to practice it someday when he met one.  
  
Who?  
  
His lids fluttered open.  
  
Bilbo? Yes. His uncle? Exactly!  
  
Frodo didn't know if he was supposed to greet the return of his memory or sadly, as he now felt even sadder and more threatened by being in the clutches of the elves' opponents' hands.  
  
Except, perhaps for having Merry around. His cousin might still be able to stop all of this craziness - if only he could find him.  
  
But what he saw the next minute totally baffled him over. Although he couldn't hear what his cousin was saying at this too great the distance, he could clearly see how Merry COMMANDED the orcs and men to go on. Merry was so engrossed in his new toy - playing a troop leader - shouting commands here and there and pointing at what directions his subordinates had to go that he failed to notice the shock and fear and disappointment in Frodo's darking blue eyes.  
  
Frodo then decide to resume his attempt to escape. Good for him, the man behind him was too busy in his maneuvering his warg to even take hold of Frodo. Frodo could almost tell that the man even found him a bother this time.  
  
All of a sudden something was flying over Frodo's head and he ducked to avoid being hit by it. But the man behind him was not that lucky. The thing that turned to be a dagger knocked the man out as it pounded hard on his skull and landed on the saddle in a void between Frodo and the man.  
  
The man staggered and fell off instantly of the warg, quite painfully as it still ran fast before it finally stopped. Frodo froze for a moment before he realized what had happened and that this was a chance he had been waiting for. He had to move quickly. The knife had just hit the man, not killing him. He could come to anytime and ruin everything. So Frodo turned around to get the knife and started working on the rope around his waist. He exhaled in relief when he finally could cut it loose. You could always count on the elves to make the best quality of knives.  
  
Then he jumped down, feeling a little dazed as his feet hit the ground. For a moment he felt confused and doubtful of which way to go as there was still a commotion that he was facing. Horses were still crisscrossing with wargs, arrows were flying to and from every direction, and swords were battling each other. Frodo ran, ducked, and jumped over dead bodies here and there, going to anywhere but to where the elves had come from. He was sure that they were from Rivendell and even though he didn't really want to meet Bilbo, in his heart he knew he could find solace there. Merry wouldn't mind. He would go there anyway.  
  
"Help! Help!" he screamed, in elfish, as loudly as his small voice could be. But so far nobody heeded his cry.  
  
- but Merry. Having known Frodo longer than all these men and the others, he could easily recognize the pathetic little voice of his cousin. Looking around, he finally spotted Frodo far ahead - too far to be true. Merry frowned. When did he escape?  
  
"Get him!" Merry wailed, overcoming all the noises, overwhelming everyone who heard it, including Frodo, who suddenly felt his heart beat faster. Why did Merry sound so furious? He was curious, yet he didn't stop. He kept running toward Rivendell, or so he assumed. Oh, why did no single elf pay attention to him!?  
  
"Take him!" Merry was still shouting. "The hobbit! Don't let him escape!"  
  
Frodo felt as if his lungs were ready to explode. And his legs! He didn't know since when his legs had become this sluggish. He could only try his best to flee.  
  
Distracted by Merry's impossibly loud voice, everyone went still. There were some movements, though. And they came from several orcs who were now heading straight to Frodo. Without any difficulty, they successfully blocked Frodo's path and halted in front and around the trembling little hobbit.  
  
Heaving frustratedly, Frodo stepped back, only to bump to someone. He looked up and quickly felt faint. It was the man that had held him captive earlier. The leader.  
  
Merry rode closer and got down. The orcs gave way to him. He walked to Frodo, making the hobbit feel so helpless to be cornered like that. To make it worse, he felt the man suddenly grab his arms and twist them behind his back. It was painful but Frodo, for once, didn't whimper or moan.  
  
"Mer--"  
  
"Silence!" snapped Merry harshly. "Frodo, you have disappointed me."  
  
Frodo tested the man's grasp. Great. He couldn't move at all. Plus Merry had just told him about being disappointed. This was not a good sign. Frodo remembered every time Merry expressed his disappointment toward him, he would end up experiencing something completely uncomfortable, if not hurtful.  
  
"Whatever was in your mind, Frodo?" asked Merry coldly. "Why did you do that?"  
  
Frodo gulped hard. How was he supposed to answer this? Would his cousin tolerate an honest answer? But Frodo tried on.  
  
"These men are killing the elves. I - I don't understand. Bilbo told me a lot about them. They are just and good-hearted creatures."  
  
Merry tried to hide away his surprise to see that veils had been lifted up from Frodo's mind. So, our beautiful nephew of Bilbo had regained his memory, huh? Despite everything that had been spoken by the lovely yet wrecked hobbit, a wicked smile was formed on Merry's lips. He felt a sudden excitement dashing into his mind and body.  
  
TBC 


	48. Chapter 48

Endymion: Rescue will come when the time comes. ^_^  
  
Alisaundre: And to review these chapters is wonderful too!  
  
Andy's Princess: Glad you're back! But sad to hear you were sick. I'm k inda miss you, you know!  
  
Oddwen: Oops. Did I confuse a hobbit's characteristics to an elf's?  
  
QTPie: I agree with you and Frodo does, too, about Merry being scary!  
  
Krista: Your elaboration on me being twisted is very interesting! Just enjoy!  
  
Orelinde: Ah! Nice to hear from a new friend! Thanks for reviewing. Well, I hope you still enjoy the story no matter how disturbing it is. Glad to hear you notice how Merry sounded in FOTR. I was expecting someone to come up with a story about it but nothing so far. So I decided to try to write one!  
  
Warning: AU, violence  
  
Chapter 48  
  
"What is happening?" whispered one of the elves in his language softly.  
  
"I can hardly tell," replied another. "But I'm sure the little creature there is in a lot of trouble."  
  
There were four or five elves on their horses which were standing still in place, a bit wondering why the men and orcs suddenly ceased their attack. But that was not the thing that was occupying their mind. They were more curious at the sight of a pale figure surrounded by threatening faces of men and orcs. They could also see how Frodo squirmed and feel how the little one quiver and despair.  
  
"What is it all about? Why is he captured? Who is he?" asked an elf, voicing the questions all of them had in their heads. "He is a hobbit. There is one in our place, remember? His name is--"  
  
"Bilbo," continued the other. "Do you think this one has any relation with him?" he turned to his companion.  
  
"That is possible. Ah, should we help him? But, hey, there is another hobbit. Perhaps he is going to help his friend."  
  
But the elf gasped suddenly at an unexpected thing Merry just did.  
  
"He's not helping him! Let's move! That little one is definitely in need of our help!"  
  
Completely engulfed by what they were observing, the elves didn't hear or guess what -  
  
WHACK!  
  
"Harr - harr! Eat this, elves!"  
  
And - chop! Chop! Chop!  
  
Several orcs were stabbing and striking all the remaining elves over and over with the blades of their terrible-looking swords. Soon there was nothing left of the first elf group sent by their Lord Elrond.  
  
***  
  
Frodo had never thought that Merry was going to punch his unprotected stomach, not after giving him smile. It, the smile, then proved to be a fake one.  
  
The blow would have made Frodo double over if he hadn't been mercilessly seized by the man's tight grip. Frodo frowned, having his breath taken from him. His red lips formed an 'O' at the sharp pain coming from his abused abdomen. But nothing more, not even a moan.  
  
Frodo tried hard to still himself. He was becoming aware of his situation as a captive now, that had to act anything to please his captors. Otherwise - his eyes fluttered close - they would be angry. And if they were angry, Frodo could only hope they would be more merciful than Merry at that time.  
  
"So what, Frodo, if they killed an elf?" Merry's cold voice sent him back to reality, in which he was still trying to regulate his breath. "Do you disapprove of that? And you're going to run to Rivendell, before we do, to warn them? And warn whom, if I may ask, Frodo?" pushed Merry. "You know nobody there except Bilbo and Gandalf. But have you forgotten what they have done to you? They no longer care about you, beloved! You are nothing to them."  
  
Merry's eyes screwed into Frodo's the entire time he attacked the poor hobbit verbally. Frodo stared back. This was exactly what Merry told him some time ago and the same as before, Frodo felt his heart stung because of the truth in those statements.  
  
"I didn't run from you, Merry," said Frodo softly. A little white lie. He still couldn't forget his amazement toward Merry's commanding act.  
  
"I was running away from the men. What they did to the elves frightened me so."  
  
Merry looked deeply at those mesmerizing eyes, trying to catch any signs of dishonesty. But Frodo didn't falter although deep down his heart drummed like crazy. He had to keep Merry think of him as innocent of things around him.  
  
"Not running away from me, eh? Are you trying to tell me that after escaping, IF you succeed at all, you are going to look for me and then we both go to Rivendell, away from these folks?" chased Merry.  
  
Frodo nodded his head frantically, but stopped was stopped abruptly as the man behind him jerked him hard to steady his body. Frodo turned up and glared at the man angrily.  
  
Seeing how Frodo turned his attention from him, Merry grabbed Frodo's jaw and yanked it violently back to face him again. Frodo gritted his teeth as the sore feeling at both his jaw and neck, and he held his breath when realizing that Merry had no intention to release his jaw soon. He even rubbed Frodo's cheek softly with his thumb now.  
  
"Are you sure you're not lying, Frodo?" The gentleness in Merry's voice made Frodo shudder. "Because I find it quite impossible for you not to notice how I worked together with these people. Didn't you see how they moved under my command? I'm great, aren't I?" His voice now was full of self-pride. "You saw that, didn't you? That's why you kept on running. Not only from them but also from me. THAT is the truth, right, Frodo?!"  
  
Frodo cringed as Merry tightened his claw-like clutch. The fair hobbit finally couldn't hold back his whimper although it was stifled by Merry's hand. Merry kept on going until tears streamed down Frodo's ashen cheeks. But instead of letting his cousin go, Merry eyed him with full interest, making Frodo flush with awkward and humiliated feeling. He hitched when Merry finally let him go.  
  
And without realizing it, panic suddenly overcame Frodo and he struggled wholeheartedly against the man's grasp. Fear and despair were cramming in his heart, making him difficult to breath. He couldn't see what would become of his life. Staying passively was probably the best thing he should have done. From his experience in captivity, he knew that a failed attempt of escape could only bring more grief. Whatever the captors would call it, a punishment or whatever, their anger or embarrassment because their captive nearly succeeded to run away could make them take an action that was oftentimes difficult to believe.  
  
"No---" Frodo's voice was shaking. "Please, merry. I---"  
  
"I can't believe it, Frodo." Merry was not gentle anymore. "You could have said something more clever than that. Even more, you shouldn't have run at all!"  
  
Terrified, Frodo let out a small muffled sound.  
  
You know what will happen when you betray the one who cares for you so much, Frodo, when you try to let go everything or everyone you have for something or someone who even has given up on you since a long time ago."  
  
"Hhh---" Frodo heaved and gazed apprehensively at the-now-so-powerful Merry. He was trying to step back, away from his cousin, only to sink more into the man's relentless hold.  
  
All of a sudden Frodo sensed the presence of someone else behind his back. Before he could turn around a bit to find out that particular person's intention, he suddenly felt a stinging pain on his neck and a wet substance roll down his back. He froze. What was that?  
  
It was Merry who answered for him, without any words at all.  
  
He took a knife covered with droplets of blood, Frodo's blood, on its tip, from the man behind Frodo, whose eyes widened in shock. They had just sliced his neck skin open!  
  
"Ahh, Merry! For Eru's sake, what---"  
  
Merry slowly brought his forefinger to his own lips, gesturing Frodo to keep silent. And without saying anything, he took something else from the man, a piece of cloth. Frodo creased his brow.  
  
"I won't do you any harm, Frodo. Just see it for yourself." He showed Frodo the cloth. It looked just like any plain cloths. Frodo relaxed a bit, and still did when Merry reached for Frodo's neck and rubbed the blood from the cut.  
  
Unexpectedly, more stinging pain came from the wound like salt had just been poured down on it.  
  
"Ooh--- Merry, what have you done?"  
  
Grinning devilishly, Merry rubbed the cloth again, this time on Frodo's right cheek. It was wet and it wasn't only because of blood. Frodo winced.  
  
"P - poison, Meriadoc?!"  
  
"Oh, come on, Frodo. Don't panic. A small amount of it won't kill you. It will just - tame - you a bit."  
  
Frodo was shaking with rage but he couldn't do much. His body gradually grew lax  
  
And he was only half awake when the men wound up a length of rope around his wrists, securing his hands behind his back. And he didn't know for sure whether it was because he had finally lost his consciousness or because of the blindfold put on him when darkness finally overcame him.  
  
TBC 


	49. Chapter 49

Aelfgifu: Can I say that I miss you? Yes, I can! I really do hope that you are still there enjoying the story.  
  
QTPie: I believe that the real Merry would feel the same way too.  
  
Krista: Hurrah for your return! I miss you just as I miss Emma.  
  
Endymion: I felt a bit lame myself about the elves...  
  
Alisundre: "We're here! We're here!" said Strider, Sam, Ted, and - Pippin.  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: Sorry! But Merry made me write this. This was what really happened, he said.  
  
Warning: AU  
  
Chapter 49  
  
Strider could almost swear that what had caught his sight was a hobbit for it was small and clearly had curly hair. But Pippin, with his sore body, was still quite fast that he managed to bury himself in bushes behind all the big trees. If it wasn't because of a slight movement he made, the ranger wouldn't have known where the hobbit was hiding.  
  
Striding undoubtfully with his long legs, Strider got to the groups of shrubs even before Pippin had the chance to take a breath. He wailed when sensing a hand grasp his shoulder and yank him upward, away from the bushes, and continued to drag him along to where Sam and Ted were waiting cautiously.  
  
Sam sucked his breath when recognizing who Strider was holding.  
  
"Master Pippin! What are you doing there alone?" he shouted, his eyes widening. It was lucky for the questioned hobbit, though, that Sam didn't realize what Pippin had done to him, again, the last time they crossed their paths.  
  
But Pippin, recalling how he had struck the ranger, got so engrossed in his own fearful feeling that he failed to even notice Sam's question. Strider, on the other hand, had not been willing to let him go although the man had finally released his bruising shoulder. The ranger turned him around none too gently so that now he was facing, not the ragged face of Strider, of course, but the man's chest instead. Pippin didn't dare to look up at Strider, who was now starting to shake him, making Pippin's body sway uncontrollably. Dizziness began to overcome him and he struggled to keep his teeth from bumping to each other.  
  
Strider got unusually impatient as he had been hoping to meet whatever creatures that had caused the earth to quake, and to fight a bloody fight if that was the only way to free Frodo, the hobbit he so desperately wanted to save. He couldn't imagine what would happen to himself if he failed this single thing. Gandalf would shred him into pieces as the wizard had carefully stated that nothing harmful should come upon the hobbit, not even on a strand of hair. But this? Frodo was practically wrecked the last time Strider laid his eyes upon him. He couldn't forget how Frodo had been unable to resist what the corrupted hobbit, Merry, had told him what to do.  
  
The ranger continued to shake the limping body of Pippin without a single word coming from the man's mouth. What else should he ask the hobbit besides the very same question Sam had addressed the hobbit and that hadn't been answered?  
  
Pippin's face grew paler and he felt he couldn't stand it anymore. Sam was alarmed seeing how Frodo's cousin's face was greening and looked as if he would be sick anytime.  
  
Sam jumped in just in time to save Strider from being spilled all over his body by Pippin's heave.  
  
"Strider!" Sam cried. "That's enough! He's getting sick!"  
  
And as the ranger released Pippin from his grip and Pippin slumped down on his knees from the lack of support, a stream of yellowish liquid shot out of the hobbit's mouth.  
  
"Poor Master Pippin," commented the softhearted Sam, and looked scornfully at Strider.  
  
"You need not do that, Master Strider," glared Sam. "It is so obvious that Pippin was in pain even before you shook him like a worthless rag doll." Sam either didn't want to admit that Pippin had beat him so hard at the back of his head once or just simply forgot.  
  
He kneeled down beside Pippin and started to knead the trembling hobbit's neck to help him let out all the lumps in his throat and also to ease the taut muscles there.  
  
"Feeling better, Master Pip?"  
  
"Mmh, thanks, Sam," mumbled Pippin. Sam nodded and stood up. He replied his question earlier. But Pippin shook his head weakly.  
  
"I don't know. I was left behind."  
  
Sam's brow furrowed.  
  
"Left behind? Why? I thought Merry would never leave you. Where is he? Where is Master Frodo?"  
  
Strider stood silently with his back facing the hobbits. He didn't realize that he was shaking furiously. Ted, who was standing in front of him, extended his hand and put it gently on the ranger's shoulder, trying to calm him down.  
  
"We will find him, Strider. I promise you," said Ted in his soothing voice.  
  
What? Wasn't Ted taking the matter a bit too lightly? Promising him something like that? No, it was hard for Strider to believe that. They needed some information that could lead them to Frodo and the only person whom they could gather it from was this silly little hobbit!  
  
"I don't know where Frodo is!" Pippin insisted. "I got unconscious when they finally took him away."  
  
Strider frowned. His suspicion arose.  
  
"They? Who is 'they'?" asked him harshly.  
  
Pippin turned to the man and began to shiver again.  
  
"They --- they--" he stuttered.  
  
Strider ignored his hesitant speech.  
  
"Just answer the question!"  
  
Pippin stared back at Sam.  
  
"There were men, orcs, and - beasts! Hundreds of beats!" Pippin cried out. Dread fell over him, and it quickly spread to Sam.  
  
"What - what kind of beasts?" he asked, fearing the worst for Frodo.  
  
"Wargs," muttered Strider.  
  
"What's that?" Sam's jaw dropped open.  
  
"The big creatures you felt their drumming along the other day, Sam. They look like a dog, a menacing-looking one, but they are much bigger. Orcs are riding them, but I never heard men are, too."  
  
"They are!" convinced Pippin.  
  
"And where did they say they were going?"  
  
Pippin was just more than happy to inform them. Anything. As long as they never came to the point where he would be forced to tell them how he had tried to drown Frodo.  
  
"Rivendell!"  
  
***  
  
The man let go of Frodo and the unconscious, bound and blindfolded frame of the hobbit sank slowly to the ground, on his knees first, then finally slumping completely on his side. The man stooped and tied another piece of rope around Frodo's ankles.  
  
"Someone must take him now," he, the leader, said. "I can't. I lost my warg."  
  
He looked around, but even he was bewildered by what he saw. The orcs were surrounding Frodo and looked down hungrily at him as if he were some kind of a delicious meal.  
  
"Aa - I don't think so. Not either of you, please." He had known these creatures long enough to be able to see what was running in their minds right now, and even he shuddered to think about it. So he motioned to the man who had helped him earlier to take the hobbit away.  
  
Merry stood impatiently, watching the men's slow action. He sighed loudly when someone finally took the responsibility, so he could walk back to the warg he had been riding together with a big folk.  
  
"Now let's go! I didn't see the advantage of lingering here. They can send more elves soon."  
  
Grumbling high and low, the man grabbed Frodo's tied form and tossed it over his shoulder. He thought he heard a groan when he unceremoniously threw Frodo flat on his stomach on the warg's back. But he didn't give much attention to it as he drabbed a thick, coarse cover over Frodo's body, hindering any outsiders from finding out about their wretched captive unintentionally.  
  
TBC 


	50. Chapter 50

Alisaundre: Orcs are indeed foolish creatures that men are able to steer. :) Krista: Thanks to always let me know that you follow the story. And - (handing out the medicine, my next chapter). Enjoy! QTPie: I agree Sam should have been angrier toward Pip! Blue Jedi Hobbit: Please don't give up the hope. The time will come for Frodo to be safe and comforted. endymion: OMG! I completely forgot about Saruman! aelfgifu: Congratulations for finally finishing your grading. Sorry if I was being pushy. LOL  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
Chapter 50  
  
Frodo barely recognized the shrill cries of war from the men and orcs, while he couldn't place Merry's voice at all. Was it because the twisted hobbit was too busy giving unspoken commands to the others or because he was still smiling smugly all the time, something Frodo often saw decorating his cousin's face lately? Well, anything was possible and Frodo was hardly aware of all that as he was trying desperately just to move.  
  
He was not sure but it seemed that he had awakened long before now, when all of a sudden he felt his breath sucked out completely. That was when someone threw him ungracefully onto something with coarse hair and stinky smell. He couldn't tell what it was at first, having lost his senses especially with his eyes covered.  
  
Frodo strained his neck, trying to lessen the stiffness on it due to its being in hanging position. But it was useless, the straining. It even worsened the pain coming from the wound which gradually changed to spasms.  
  
Panic started to overcome Frodo and he groaned in despair. He was writhing, trying to attract someone's attention, but that was when a thick fabric was thrown over his body.  
  
"Eru, no!" he screamed frustratedly, but his voice was heavily stifled by the cover. "Aaahh!" Frodo squealed and squirmed, and froze when a seizure attacked his left chest. The poison had started to spread.  
  
He pressed his upper body down to lessen the pain but it didn't help much. His breath turned ragged and slow. He tossed his head back, attempting to draw air into his lungs. Tears flowed down from his eyes, soaking the blindfold.  
  
"Gods, please help me---" he was begging, pleading, but still very difficult to breathe. Mama, Papa, what had he done to deserve this? Yet, all the agony was just too familiar to him. This had happened to him before and he had managed to survive at that time. Would he survive it this time?  
  
Frodo was panting, screaming, gasping again, and screeching again, until his mouth went terribly dry. He tried to move his bound hand but he was trussed up too tightly. Ah, Elbereth! He jerked again as his heart tightened yet again. Only this time a hand suddenly pushed his back, making sure he lay down still.  
  
So, he finally had the man's attention! His hope went up despite the pains he still got. At least he would not die without someone else knowing it. Frodo renewed his struggle although that made him suffer more from the spasms. He only stopped when what he could do was gasping. And suddenly, the cover was yanked away. Frodo tensed, anticipating apprehensively on what was to come.  
  
***  
  
Merry felt a bit disappointed, as they met no more of the elves during their journey afterwards. It went smoothly down the grassy fields and rocky terrain alternately. The wargs were still galloping at full speed, though, for Merry and the men didn't want to delay their assured (in their opinion) dominance over the significant piece of land in the valley of Rivendell. If they succeeded in taking over that place, overcoming Lorien would be as easy.  
  
Nearing the Bruinen river, the men's leader informed Merry that they would soon see the river but that Merry needn't worry about how to cross it.  
  
"We will go across the ford, Master Merry. It won't be difficult at all. And with another step, you will be in Rivendell already!"  
  
Merry's eyes shone, but a second later he creased his brow.  
  
"How about guards? Or scouts? They surely won't leave the place unattended, will they?" he inquired.  
  
The leader laughed out loud.  
  
"Guards? Scouts? You have seen what my men and those orcs are capable of doing, haven't you? Why all those doubts? The point is, we're willing to do anything at the right price!"  
  
Merry frowned a little at this but then he smiled widely.  
  
"Very well, then! Let's get going, or you will not get what you want!" he exclaimed. The man welcomed this with a wail that was replied wildly by his fellows.  
  
So, away they went and they reached the ford at no time at all. To Merry's surprise, there were no guards at all. Apparently the lords in Rivendell hadn't got the news of their loss so they didn't set any patrols around the river.  
  
Having crossed the ford of Bruinen, they ran along the river which led them down to the valley. After a moment, Merry raised his right hand, signaling the others to halt.  
  
"They put guards around the bridge," he whispered, and the message was quickly spread out across the men and orcs. A man with a bow and a quiver full of arrows stepped forward.  
  
"I'll take care of them, Master," he said, also in a whisper. They had to be very quiet. These elves' ears were so keen. They saw themselves that the fair guards had started whipping their heads to the left and right, trying to locate where the noises Merry had produced were coming from.  
  
But before those elves had a chance to initiate an action, arrows had been whooshing away to their direction, slicing the air and aiming directly to their chests. A second too late, those elves were suddenly left having their eyes widened and breaths caught - forever. Almost at the same time they all crumpled to the ground, lifeless.  
  
Merry almost cheered joyfully at this small triumph. But he realized the road was still long.  
  
"Go!" he roared. "Go! Take over the bridge! Faster! Faster!" he motioned and commanded everyone to go before him. But he stopped the one carrying Frodo.  
  
"No. Not you. Stay close to me. He's under my care." Merry tilted his chin at the blanketed bulk.  
  
He realized, as before, that there was no use of him to join the attack. These service men he brought certainly didn't need him in it. He would only injure or kill himself. Therefore he stayed behind while the others raided the once peaceful realm and killed all elves they met. While casualties also came from their side, Merry still considered this attack a success as they could finally reach the House of Elrond, and have everyone in the house dragged out: the servants, Elrond's twin sons, Gandalf the wizard, and Lord Elrond himself.  
  
With a pair of hands holding each of those people's arms firmly, they could hardly move at all. And when Merry stepped forward, Gandalf's eyes grew so wide they almost popped out.  
  
"MERIADOC BRANDYBUCK! What's the meaning of this? Release us at once!" He advanced unyieldingly, almost yanked free form his captors. But the men clutching him were stronger. Merry backed away, apprehension and realization flashing across his face briefly, but they soon faded away.  
  
Merry sneered devilishly.  
  
"You cannot scare me anymore, Gandalf. Or threaten me. I won't let you." His voice was of pride and victory.  
  
The wizard was flabbergasted. That voice. Those eyes. They did not belong to the hobbit he used to know. He feared the worst had taken place. Then his heart sank. Frodo! Where was he?  
  
"And I won't let you make me do all those dishes again, for sure!" Merry chuckled loudly, recalling what had happened the night Bilbo celebrated his birthday. That brought him to something.  
  
"Oh, and Gandalf," he walked closer to the grey wizard and looked up. "So where is Bilbo? He's not in the house. Where is he?"  
  
Gandalf turned tight-lipped. There was no way he would voluntarily reveal this little thing to the surprisingly-turned-evil hobbit.  
  
"Ah," Merry said in mock understanding. "You want it the hard way."  
  
The wizard - and the elves - went tense and started to thrash about despite the tight grip. What would Merry possibly do? But to their surprise, Merry walked away from them, toward a warg, and pulled a cover spreading over something - or somebody - roughly.  
  
It was someone. Small. A hobbit? Gandalf closed his eyes in despair.  
  
TBC 


	51. Chapter 51

Alisaundre: Oh! I might have put the next part in a new paragraph. Is that what you mean? And, thanks for the congratulations! It's still counting!  
  
endymion: LOL. I didn't mean to make them look dumb. But again, didn't the elves lose the war in Helm's Deep? (movie version) If there were no Eomer and his soldiers..  
  
Krista: A major apocalypse and its re-construction will need 50 more chapters? :  
  
Oddwen: Ugghh, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can read your comment. He.he.  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 51  
  
Frodo howled as a hand entangled in his hair and another circling around his arm pulled him up and away from the warg. For a moment he felt himself floating in the air and shrieked all the way down as the pain clutching his head was almost unbearable. It felt as if the scalp were being torn away. And when he finally hit the ground, he gasped loudly. Hundreds of pinpricks were like attacking both of his legs and feet. They had been hanging for so long that they went asleep and numb, and it hurt as the blood rushed back down.  
  
Frodo bared his teeth at the uncomfortable sensation. "Please-" his voice was shaking.  
  
Nobody came to help him ease the feeling, though. Instead, the grasps on his head and arms were released, leaving him sway for the lack of support and for his inability to stand steadily with his ankles tied up. And Frodo ungracefully limped forward and landed face down on the ground. He cried out as his nose kissed the earth, and shut his eyes tightly as pain spread all over his face. He felt warm, sticky liquid dripping from the nose.  
  
"Merry---" he called frustratedly.  
  
Frodo tried to raise his head but he found it hard to do with his hands still bound behind his back. The other hobbit bent down and patted Frodo's curls.  
  
"Poor Frodo," Merry cooed.  
  
He then motioned to two men to come and then each took one of Frodo's arms and dragged the weakened and bleeding hobbit to the front of the other captives. Merry followed close behind. Gandalf's heart broke to see the entire scene. What had they done to this gentle, dear hobbit of his? Why, of all people, did Merry want to hurt his own cousin? There was only one answer to this - he was under the influence of the Ring! Gandalf cleared his throat which suddenly felt very dry and parched.  
  
"Frodo!" he called out. He felt silly asking the following, but he asked anyway.  
  
"Is everything all right with you, dear boy?"  
  
Frodo straightened up, ears standing, and he whipped his head to the left and right, trying to locate the person who had shouted at him despite the blindfold depriving him of sight. Still, Frodo knew precisely who it was. A lump suddenly filled his throat.  
  
"G - gandalf?" he breathed faintly.  
  
The wizard resumed the attempt to free himself against the strong hands holding him fast. Oh, he had just realized how he missed that voice so much, a voice now tainted with pain and agony.  
  
"Yes, Frodo," he responded with a choked voice. "What - what is wrong here, little one? I'm so sorry, Frodo."  
  
Ah! He had to try hard to keep himself from crying. Frodo felt his heart clench. He wanted to cry, too. But Gandalf's question triggered a memory in one part of his wrecked brain. All of a sudden his blood boiled with rage.  
  
"Oh, you're lying, Gandalf!" Frodo exclaimed loudly. "You don't really mean what you're saying!"  
  
The wizard was so taken aback he missed the smile that mysteriously appeared on Merry's face.  
  
Go on, Merry thought evilly.  
  
"Why do you say that, Frodo?" Gandalf frowned. "You look - ah, Elbereth! I can't say it. But I know it is my fault too."  
  
"It is indeed! But don't, Gandalf. Don't say sorry if you don't mean it. You left me behind, wizard," Frodo said sarcastically. "- on purpose. You didn't care about me although you said yourself the road would be full of dangers! You abandoned me, Gandalf," Frodo's voice softened with anguish. "You - you didn't show up at the Prancing Pony, and you - let me suffer."  
  
Frodo broke into an agonized cry. His head hung down and he was hanging completely in the hands of his captors. Gandalf felt a deep fear. No, he was not afraid for himself, but for Frodo. He never knew this Frodo. The one he knew, Bilbo's nephew, was always so lively, strong, and a bit mischievous. But this one, this thin and terribly pale hobbit, was beyond any hope. Someone had clearly broken him down until there was nothing left of him. No confidence, no faith, and no trust, even for his close friend. And Gandalf doubted if Frodo still had trust in himself. But he was wrong. Gandalf was wrong. There WAS someone Frodo thought he could count on - his own tormentor, Merry. It was a pity Gandalf did not know this crucial fact.  
  
"I was delayed, Frodo," said Gandalf softly. "That was why I failed to meet you at the Pony."  
  
Frodo lifted his face. "Don't," he strangled. "Don's say anything anymore. Please. Don't give me more lies as I know that they are all lies. I know - Gandalf. Merry told me."  
  
"Merry? ---"  
  
But Gandalf's question was cut short as Frodo suddenly screamed loudly as if he were in a great pain. His head was thrown to the back and his body started to convulse violently. Gandalf stared in shock, and the Elves, who had kept silent during the mind-shattering conversation earlier, strained hard to free themselves.  
  
"Frodo? Frodo!" Gandalf cried out.  
  
But the hobbit didn't respond. He was still shaking hard for several minutes longer, and then stopped abruptly. His body went slack; only his gasping breaths were heard. Gandalf called on him once more. But it seemed that Frodo had lost consciousness again.  
  
***  
  
"Strider!" Sam sounded strangely happy. "Look what I've found here!"  
  
The man followed Sam's voice coming from behind some bushes, and he found him standing, grinning widely, in front of a busily-chewing-on-something pony. Strider frowned.  
  
"It'll be perfect to carry Master Pippin, won't it, Strider?" chirped Sam.  
  
The ranger was still not in a light mood like Sam. Worries still occupied his mind.  
  
"He's not strong enough to come with us but we must go as soon as we can. But again, nobody wants to carry him, right?" accused Sam.  
  
Reluctantly, Strider nodded. That was true. It was so difficult for him to make himself forgive Pippin. Apart of what the hobbit had done to him, it was even harder to justify Pippin's partaking in Frodo's ill treatment  
  
"So!" exclaimed the hobbit in front of him. "This is such a good find."  
  
Sam reached for the mane and led the pony out to where Pippin and Ted were waiting.  
  
"Master Pippin! Come! Let me help you mount this pony. You'll like it. This way, you don't have to tire yourself out walking."  
  
Pippin glimmered as he recognized the beast. But his eyes were also showing deep regret.  
  
"You're unbelievable, Sam," he croaked. "I caused you so many troubles, remember? And - and I helped Merry torment Frodo ---"  
  
"Young Master," cut Sam. "That wasn't a real you," he said seriously. "It's the Ring, right, from what Merry told me?"  
  
"Merry told you?" Pippin's eyes widened.  
  
"Well," said Sam hesitantly, flashes of him and Strider's beating Merry to get all the information they wanted coming back to him. "He didn't voluntarily tell us, of course."  
  
Sam felt terrible for having done such a thing.  
  
"Sam," Pippin touched him on the shoulder, bending a little from the pony's back. "I know what you mean. And there was nothing wrong with that, I assure you. You just worried about Frodo."  
  
"Which," Sam turned around. "brings me back to my first question. Why did Merry leave you?"  
  
Pippin turned away, his face flushing. "I--- He---" he stuttered.  
  
But suddenly, facing Sam again, Pippin talked merrily, "Merry was once very kind to Frodo!"  
  
Curious, Sam glinted at him. "What do you mean?"  
  
Pippin took a relieved breath quietly. Finally, he could get Sam to something else. "I'm serious," continued Pippin. "Merry gave Frodo bread and soup. He was very patient with Frodo although at first he didn't want to eat anything."  
  
Sam almost couldn't believe it. There was something in Pippin's voice that still showed some kind of adoration toward Merry. He shuddered at the thought.  
  
"So? Did Frodo finally eat?" chased Sam. "He's always not always a good eater. What did Merry do to make him?"  
  
"Nothing!" asserted Pippin. "He treated Frodo tenderly as if he were a baby. Oh! And he bathed him, too!"  
  
"What?! The old Frodo wouldn't let ANYBODY to do that for him. How could that be?"  
  
"I guess," Pippin said slowly. "Maybe because Frodo forgot that he usually never lets anybody to do that for him."  
  
Without realizing it, envy started to flow back into Pippin. Sam was shocked to hear of Frodo forgetting such a basic thing as bathing habits.  
  
"Forgot! Forgetting his own habit!" exclaimed Sam. "What is it, Pippin? Are you saying that Frodo doesn't remember anything right now?"  
  
TBC 


	52. Chapter 52

Aelfgifu: Oh, I'm sorry I forgot about your knuckle. I'm sure it is okay right now for you to continue your evil Merry story. And talking about Merry, spanking is sure to be ONE of his punishments! :  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: Happy belated Birthday! And please tell me, how about the hope of yours now?  
  
Krista: I so love you that will not stop reading even if there were an apocalypse! I really need that!  
  
Oddwen: I reposted the chapter paragraphed and beta-ed already by the amazing Emma (who else!) Do check it out again!  
  
Endymion: I hope my elves will be cleverer later. LOL. But, why do you dislike Haldir so much? I'd say he's much better than in FOTR.  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
Chapter 52  
  
In a distance not too close and not too far between where he was being held and where Frodo was lied down right now, Elrond could see a small incision on the back of the hobbit's neck. Thank the Valar he could see that. Hair usually covered the area but with Frodo lying on his belly, all the curls were set aside. The elf-lord suspected that poison had been penetrated through that cut into Frodo's body. That would explain the sudden attack Frodo had just experienced.  
  
Elrond also realized something else. The small cut could mean that the amount of the poison entering the system was not too much. But that didn't guarantee anything. If it was a powerful kind of poison, you didn't have to use too much and you could already kill a horse. The elf prayed silently that this was not the one.  
  
"Gandalf my friend," he murmured. "We have to do something quickly. I'm afraid Frodo has been poisoned."  
  
With an effort Gandalf managed to face him, his eyes being the ones filled with agony.  
  
"I can see that too. I have to try to convince them to permit us to give him the neutralizer."  
  
But he realized what a tough job it would be. He guessed just too well Merry would make use of their position in bargaining. What would the corrupted hobbit ask in return for this, Gandalf wondered.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted when seeing how the men turned Frodo over, causing the hobbit moan a little as he was now lying on his tied arms uncomfortably. Gandalf and the elves could see how Frodo's lips had turned bluish.  
  
So many things had changed, mused Gandalf, ever since he last saw those lips tightened, a bit pouted, sulkily scorning at him,  
  
"Gandalf, you are late!"  
  
And he would blabber at how a wizard had never been late and that he would arrive precisely at the time most suitable to him.  
  
Gandalf smiled sadly at the remembrance, and started to feel guilty again. He gave his words to Bilbo that he would carefully guard the boy. Yet he failed it completely. Why, he asked himself, did he have to go to Isengard that had earned him his captivity? Had he not decided to go there but accompany Frodo to Bree, none of these would have happened. Frodo wouldn't have met Merry during his unguarded journey, Merry wouldn't have been influenced by the Ring, and he wouldn't have ---  
  
Gandalf could have gone deeper and deeper in his own misery if Elrond had not forced him back to reality.  
  
"Gandalf, go back!" he shouted, a little sorry at once for having shouted it too hard. "I apologize, Gandalf, but we really have to do something - real. I cannot let you drown, blaming yourself for everything that has come to pass."  
  
The wizard was not surprised the elf could see what was in his mind.  
  
He took a deep breath. Elrond was right. Frodo needed his help. NOW. Or he wouldn't survive this time.  
  
"Hey, Merry!" Gandalf tried to attract the attention of the hobbit who was busy looking at still unconscious Frodo. Not a glimpse of mercy or regret was at his face toward his own cousin's suffering, though.  
  
"What!" Merry replied irritatedly. "Are you willing to tell me now where Bilbo is?"  
  
Hmh, Gandalf sighed. Would this be the price he had to pay for asking to cure Frodo? Gandalf despised the idea of letting Bilbo see his beloved nephew and heir in his current state. It would be such a torment for the old chap.  
  
"No," cried Gandalf. "But we want you to untie Frodo and give him to us." He added, "his life is in peril. We have to cure him as soon as we can!"  
  
Merry laughed, his voice croaking like a crow. How Gandalf hated to hear that!  
  
"Oh, this friend of mine here is trying to fool me! 'untie Frodo and give him to us'," Merry mimicked. "Ha! Not a chance, Gandalf. Not a chance! Although I can imagine you promise me you won't try to escape, I will never hand Frodo over to you!"  
  
"But what if I tell you about Bilbo? Will that be a fair change?" offered the grey wizard.  
  
Merry thought for a moment before giving his answer.  
  
"So I see that Frodo is more precious than his uncle to you, aye, old man?" he chuckled.  
  
"And he's also precious to you, isn't he, devil?" Gandalf retorted. "Otherwise, you would just kill or abandon him once you got what you wanted, the Ring."  
  
Merry startled, but he wouldn't let himself get intimidated.  
  
"Precious? Hm, I don't think so. I just think of him as a valuable good I can make use of. Just like now. I can get a good bargain with him here with me. And for the abandoning, well, I'm not like you, Gandalf!" Merry laughed and laughed at his own sentence as if it were the funniest joke which the wizard failed to understand.  
  
Annoyed, he repeated his offer, which was replied playfully by Merry.  
  
"Oh, please, Gandalf, don't be silly! As sure as you are unwilling to hand over Bilbo, so am I for Frodo!"  
  
Elrond's patience grew thin with Merry's last remarks. He sighed deeply and turned to his sons who looked as angry as he was. He said something in elvish and was replied in the same language, drawing their guards' attention to them.  
  
Without further warning, the three swung their legs to the men at the same time. Not hard enough to send them down but enough to annoy those mean- looking men. They yelled angrily and held the elves even more tightly afterwards.  
  
If what Elrond meant to do was to free himself, he had certainly failed. But if he had only aimed at turning people's attention to them, he had greatly succeeded, as those seizing Gandalf had also been distracted.  
  
And before they realized it, their captive had flown free and swooshed toward Frodo, sending several men down in the process, including Merry, who landed sprawling ungracefully to the ground.  
  
The hobbit lost his breath and for a moment didn't realize what had happened and what he had to do. But Gandalf didn't give a damn. What he had in mind was Frodo alone and he realized that he had not much time.  
  
Regretfully, he didn't have his staff with him - someone must have taken it - but it didn't matter. He had to try to do something without.  
  
Gandalf managed to get to Frodo's side, kneeling down, snatching Frodo's blindfold off, briefly stunned to see how the hobbit's eyes were shut tightly in an intense pain, and pressing his palm down on the hobbit's aflame forehead. In a second, Gandalf could feel how Frodo was shattered inside, physically and mentally. The wizard regretted that he had not the much-needed Elrond's healing herbs but he had to try his best.  
  
Gandalf closed his eyes and pronounced some spells, trying to fight whatever evil poison was at work inside this frail body. The wizard knew he couldn't rule it out completely but at least he could give Frodo more strength to fight it.  
  
After a moment, Gandalf could feel there was a change in Frodo. The hobbit seemed more relaxed now and he looked as if he were sleeping, not fainting.  
  
But the opposite happened to Merry. Awakened from the sudden attack, he glazed wildly at the two, and roared furiously while shouting orders to the men to quickly grab Gandalf. The wizard, raising his arms and hands high in the air to signal his surrender, was pulled up immediately, and this time, had his wrists secured tightly behind his back.  
  
"I should have done that from the very beginning," said Merry, his eyes red with anger and his breath hard. But he was still too late. Now, however deeply he felt sorry for himself, he couldn't deny that he had made a terrible mistake which left him regaining nothing from the once favored situation. Frodo would heal and he didn't get anything.  
  
Reaching up, Merry grabbed the neckline of Gandal's robe with both of his hands.  
  
"You will show me the dungeon!" he hissed infuriatedly. "Because that's where you and all of those cursed elves will stay!"  
  
Gandalf raised his eyebrow to Frodo's direction. Merry caught the unspoken question, and smiled bitterly.  
  
"Oh, him? Don't worry. There will surely be a cell left for him. Don't expect to share the same suite with him, though. And by the way, Gandalf," Merry let go the old man of his grips and stepped back. "You have ruined my nice little plan concerning him. I didn't intend to put him in a cold and dark place. But thanks to you, he will have to go there now!"  
  
TBC  
  
AN: Why does Merry sound like Louis (played by Leo di Caprio) in The Man in the Iron Mask?? : Guys and girls, please review, okay? It will really cheer me up! See you in the next chapter! 


	53. Chapter 53

Krista: '.hope you don't mind!" Mind?? Oh, Krista, if only you knew what has been going on in my mind lately!  
  
endymion: dungeons? I'm wondering about them myself. ^_^ Mmm, I'd say that Gandalf 'must' have healing powers. He's a wizard after all!  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: Your hopes. lol! You're so comical, aren't you?  
  
Alisaundre: 'hugs!' for still reviewing in the midst of your busy days. I won't disappoint you, I promise!  
  
aelfgifu: You bet I'll keep on writing!  
  
Mbradford: Gandalf will find some more surprises!  
  
Chloe amethyst: It's quite a surprise for me to read your comments. Thank you very much! I didn't quite expect to get more reviews as ffnet has been so naughty as not to allow me to update. Your comments are very interesting and give me more insights in continuing the story. I hope you will keep reading it!  
  
AN: I just wanna send my highest gratitude to my greatest beta, Emma, who is not only a beta but also my motivator, advisor, teacher, you name it! In short, I can only say that I've just almost had a mental breakdown(?) I don't know. This really drove me crazy. (Maybe this is the work of Evil Merry too!) Sorry, Emma, for whining and pestering like a small kid!  
  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
Chapter 53  
  
It was a slumber. It had to be for it was similar to the ones he often had during his quest 'with' Merry. And all those dozing times had always been preceded by pain, discomfort or simply, fear. But the sleeping always developed into a peaceful, relaxing situation that allowed him to breathe freely, though always for too short a time. Frodo was never granted longer time to rest his wearied flesh and mind, either by Merry or by himself. Merry, for instance, would remind him of his place - not as a master who could sleep anytime he wanted, but as a prisoner who should abide by everything his master wanted. But then Frodo's own spirit would also make sure he awoke eventually, if only to prevent Frodo from remaining forever in the shade of not-alive-and-not-dead world which would slowly swallow him deeper and claim his life at last.  
  
But, would that be better than waking up and facing his tormentor again, being forced to accept whatever Merry wanted at that time? If Frodo was lucky, he would just end up tied. But if he wasn't, kicking or thrashing might take place.  
  
Frodo couldn't tell what awaited him this time, being roused by a warm touch that couldn't help but make him quiver while it connected to his forehead. Whimpering a little, Frodo fluttered his lids open slowly, half expecting to meet the dark cloth that had been blocking his sight for far too long. Not expecting to have it gone, Frodo's breath hitched when his eyes caught the sight of sneering Merry right in front of his nose. Having his arms clutched by hands he could not see was much more tolerable than seeing their owner in the eye.  
  
He shot a fearful glance at Merry, unsure of what would follow.  
  
"Sshh," Merry brushed off some locks that had fallen over Frodo's brow. But the small contact started the hobbit so. The last time Merry rubbed something on his skin, it had almost cost Frodo his life. He shied away.  
  
"Frodo!" Merry looked hurt by the rejection, placing a hand upon the other hobbit's shoulder and gripping it hard, making Frodo wince and preventing him from breaking away. "You must understand. I never meant to harm you - but you tried to run away!"  
  
"No," pleaded Frodo with his still-cracked voice. "I was not trying to run away from you!"  
  
"Ah--" Now both of his shoulders were in Merry's tight clutches. "We've gone through that."  
  
Flinching at the painful grasp, Frodo shook his head. He had to flee, didn't he? If not, those arrows would have found their way into his body. It had been such a bewildering mess. Frodo hadn't been able to control the huge warg after the man had been shot down. And the elves wouldn't have checked first before shooting their arrows. They wouldn't see that there were small creatures in the middle of gigantic ones. Or would they?  
  
Merry lifted Frodo to a sitting position, giving him a wider scope of sights. Frodo's blurry eyes caught sight of the bound Gandalf. He remembered the touch again. Now that he gave it a thought, he came to realize that it had been a huge palm that had clamped over his narrow brow. Gandalf's hand?  
  
Frodo breathed raggedly. That was impossible! Gandalf would NOT want to lay hands on him--let alone heal him. The wizard did not care for him anymore. Frodo could tell from all the lies the wizard had told him. He avoided the wizard's serene stares at him and turned to Merry.  
  
"Merry?" Frodo sounded lost. "Will I die?"  
  
Gandalf felt his heart sink. What made Frodo come out with such a question? Merry was surprised, too. He released Frodo's shoulders and cupped his cheeks tenderly.  
  
"Frodo?"  
  
Frodo looked up, his eyes turning from anxiety to gratitude.  
  
"I know now who has cured me," exclaimed Frodo, voice brimming with thanks. "It was nobody else but you, Merry. At first I thought it was Gandalf. But no, he wouldn't want to do that."  
  
For Frodo, Merry was not merely a simple hobbit from Buckland. Merry now was a being with power, and healing someone would be as easy as one-two- three.  
  
Gandalf jerked despite his restraints and cried out in anguish. What?! Someone must knock senses into the hobbit's head. Must he now tell Frodo what had REALLY happned? Would it be any use at all? Again, Gandalf didn't know how far and deep Merry had infused his wicked and twisted thoughts into Frodo's mind. What he couldn't understand was how Frodo could let Merry do that to him. Frodo was the most stubborn hobbit Gandalf had ever known.  
  
The wizard was just about to yell something when an elbow hit violently onto his stomach and the old man doubled over in agony.  
  
* * *  
  
"Tell me what made Frodo lose his memory!" Sam snatched the pony's reins, his face flushing with frenzy. His eyes sharply looked up at the paling Pippin, compelling the younger hobbit to give his best answer.  
  
On the pony, Pippin couldn't help stare back at Sam although part of his mind strangely wandered to someone else. Merry.  
  
A shudder ran down Pippin's spine. Sam's loud, commanding voice was way too similar to that of his cousin, who now preferred Frodo to him. He cringed as his clouded and confused mind relived the moments when Merry brutally assaulted him with his merciless strikes and kicks. And still that wasn't enough for Pippin to pay for his foolish attack upon Frodo. Foolish, as it all came out of his undeniable affection toward Merry and his unwillingness to share Merry's attention with anybody else.  
  
Tears welled in Pippin's eyes. Why couldn't Merry see this? He must have noted how Pippin was willing to do anything for him, and to accept anything that was shouted at him, though sometimes it was very harsh and cruel. But the mistake Pippin made was so big that Merry decided not to have him around anymore.  
  
And that made Pippin miss Merry terribly.  
  
A feeling provoked oddly by Sam's rough voice.  
  
Pippin's silence seemed to confuse Sam and he frowned at the weepy eyes.  
  
"It's Merry, isn't it?" Sam asked quietly  
  
.  
  
Pippin was stunned. Of course it was Merry, a hobbit far too corrupted by the Ring by now. And Pippin slowly came to his senses--realizing that it was all evil. But he still couldn't bring himself to tell that to Sam, now looking up at him with forlorn eyes. He loved Merry too much. Deep down he still believed that his real cousin would return. Pippin wondered if he was the only one who thought it possible.  
  
"Sam," Pippin trembled with a suppressed emotion. He jumped down from the pony, trying to forget the pain running up his body once his feet landed on the ground. Sam eyed him questioningly. Pippin looked almost as fragile as his dear master.  
  
"Forgive him, Sam! Forgive Merry for what he's been doing to Frodo!" Pippin threw himself to the gardener, almost sending Sam downward despite the gardener's robust form, and hugged him tightly.  
  
"What do you mean?" Struggling gently to release himself from the hobbit's desperate embrace, Sam almost couldn't believe what he had heard. "Pippin, let go of me."  
  
A little embarrassed by his own strange behavior, Pippin sniffed and stepped back, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides.  
  
"Master Pip," Sam called softly, catching his breath.  
  
Pippin was dumbfounded. Sam had addressed him with 'master' again.  
  
"Why should I forgive Merry? That little villain has tortured my master senseless and almost killed him! Have you ever--"  
  
"But it's all because of the Ring!" screamed Pippin.  
  
Sam's face grew cold.  
  
"Pip, Master Frodo once had it in his keeping. I almost never went from his side. Neither did you. But why does the Ring only give Merry its evil power?"  
  
Pippin didn't know what to say.  
  
"Because he is WEAK, Pip!" Sam delivered his undeniable point. "And that makes him guilty, too. I'm talking about Merry we used to know, not the one under the Ring's domination."  
  
For a moment no one uttered a word. There were only the sounds of the woods: wind blowing in the trees, birds chirping, and many others from forest creatures. But soon those were joined by another - Pippin's sobbing which got louder and louder with each passing moment.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
A hoarse, low voice startled both hobbits. They literally jumped. They turned around and found the owner of the voice. Strider.  
  
"Ted and I have just realized how far both of you are behind so I decided to check on you," said the ranger flatly. His brow creased slightly and he gazed down at Sam. "Why did Pippin dismount from the pony? I thought he was still unwell. Sam?"  
  
TBC 


	54. Chapter 54

Blue Jedi Hobbit: Sum up but not finished. Hm, I wonder what kind of card I will take.  
  
Krista: No! Frodo can't go back to his senses. I like him better suffer and miserable. Oh, mean! And are you serious that I should confuse the plot? Isn't it confusing already?  
  
Chloe Amethyst: Ah, thank you for coming back! I hope you will like this chapter, too!  
  
endymion: Well, to straighten things in this story out, I think I will need help! Please enjoy the following chapter.  
  
Chapter 54  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
Frodo thought he must be mad to think that Merry looked comical, especially when observing his cousin from his own upside-down position like this.  
  
Frodo had been sitting down beside Merry, hands tied behind his back and ankles bound tight. Yet despite the continued indignity of the ropes, Frodo had been grateful at his Merry for saving his life from the strange poison that had wracked his body. The wizard had rushed to his side but, no, it was merry who had saved him. Dear Merry!  
  
And suddenly they seemed to be changing location, getting ready to go --- somewhere. Frodo had pleaded and begged Merry to cut loose the cord constraining his ankles and let him walk by himself. Merry, cast a pitying gaze over Frodo, but would not grant his plea. Merry whispered intimately into Frodo's delicate, pointy ear that he was still too weak and he didn't want to needlessly tire him. Though Frodo doubted Merry's intentions at first, he finally gave in. Frodo convinced himself again that Merry did care for him and only acted in his best interests. Besides, Frodo had little choice but to submit to Merry's will; he was, after all, still a prisoner.  
  
Merry straightened up and looked around, his eyes falling on the nearest man.  
  
"Human, come here!" The man approached obediently. "Bear him with you."  
  
Merry leaned down to curl his hand reassuringly around Frodo's fingers, then pushing the bound hobbit slightly to the man's direction.  
  
"Do not untie him or give him any chance to flee," ordered Merry brusquely. But!" Merry's voice sharpened. "Handle him as gently as you can. He is a beloved friend and I do not want to hear even the slightest complaint from him of any ill treatment!"  
  
So Frodo found himself once again being hauled like baggage-though this time he was not on a warg's back but slung recklessly over a big person's shoulder. Merry had left him in ropes, hands behind back, legs tightly bound and dangling helplessly, sometimes banging at the man's chest. Frodo swayed a little as the man carrying him walked, following Merry to where Gandalf and the elves were held. Frodo couldn't do much but comply with this humiliating situation.  
  
At first Frodo made no remarks when he felt the man circle his arm around Frodo's arse to keep him still. Frodo just wriggled a little, resulting in low mean snickers from his bearer. Eventually Frodo protested his discomfort in a small voice, but the man just chuckled more and even tightened his grip, making Frodo squirm harder.  
  
Finally Frodo decided to call on Merry to settle this problem. He was sure Merry would listen to him and rectify the situation. After all, Frodo was the one Merry called "a beloved friend" and not these obscene men, and certainly not those putrid-smelling orcs.  
  
But Merry seemed to be too busy arguing with the elves that he didn't seem to hear Frodo's voice.  
  
"Merry!" called Frodo once more.  
  
Merry eventually turned to him, but to Frodo's dismay, his eyes showed annoyance. Unlike what Frodo saw just a moment ago, care and tenderness. This ill expression made Frodo shrink back when Merry approached him.  
  
"What's the matter, Frodo?" Merry remarked sharply. "Don't you see that I'm busy here?" Merry's eyes flashed in irritation.  
  
"Sorry, but this - this man--" Frodo stammered in his reply and that ate out Merry's patience.  
  
"Quiet!" Merry screamed, furiously this time, and unexpectedly backhanded Frodo hard across his face.  
  
Frodo shrieked, his face slamming to the left. He screamed inside. Aa, it hurt! Frodo wanted to stop tears that suddenly streamed down his face, but he failed. Frodo could not decide which hurt more, the pain of the slap or the sting of the betrayal. He sniffed miserably, and decided to bury his wet face down in the man's back.  
  
To add insult to injury, the object of his complaint began to mock him.  
  
"Didn't succeed, eh, your pleas to your protector?" The man leered sadistically. Fortunately, Frodo couldn't see his face.  
  
Frodo lifted his face up, still burning from the slap.  
  
"I - I'll get you for that, runt!" threatened the man. "I'll show you what happened to tattlers!"  
  
Frodo managed to give the man the last bit of his fading resistance. Unimpressed, the man just smirked..  
  
With sight blurred from the remaining tears, Frodo glanced in Merry's direction. He had been with the elves again and it was clear that he wasn't too happy with the turn his conversation had taken with those fair creatures.  
  
Merry looked angry as he paced back and forth, sometimes stomping his feet hard to the ground. For those who couldn't hear what he was grumbling about, Merry would have seemed a sulky little boy. It was so comical that Frodo couldn't help smiling a little, something he had not done for so long. The corners of his diminutive lips turned up, brightening his face a little and giving a glimmer of light to his sad eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
Merry eyed the four prisoners kneeling in front him. Thin and fine-edged cords trussed their wrists and arms up, cutting painfully into their skin. But no matter how cruelly Merry had his men deliver his punishments - slaps and kicks among others - they still kept to story.  
  
"This is a healing house," said Elrond through gritted teeth, trying to subdue the pain a man inflicted on him by twisting one of his hands. "And a healing house does not normally have dungeons or cells. We have no crime here, our boarders are well protected, and there have been no need for cells of any sort."  
  
Merry could not believe his ears. This was an unexpected wrinkle in his plans! How could he manage to put all of the Rivendell elves under his constant watch? They would still outnumber his horde of men and orcs. This was their homeland. They were born and bred here. Their number was that of a small nation.  
  
Merry frowned and, amidst his annoyance, gazed up and around. Rivendell was indeed beautiful! Houses were built high on the hills, and streams and waterfalls flowed beneath and amongst them. The strctures, though old, were bright and wide open, allowing the sunlight to pour generously in. For a moment Merry drew back to his own self and let himself drink up all the beauty around him.  
  
Elrond could be right. Why would they want to stain this wonderful place with something as foul and degrading as an underground dungeon?  
  
But, getting back to the present time, Merry was not gullible enough to blindly accept whatever people told him. He stooped and whispered in Gandalf's ear, though loudly enough for the others to hear.  
  
"Try harder to convince me, Mage, or something will happen to your lovely friend over there."  
  
Merry's eyes flickered cruelly to Frodo, who could not see Merry's cold sneer from his position behind the man's back. Gandalf bubbled with anger and sent panicked glances to the barbarous hobbit.  
  
"You will not do anything to him!" Gandalf's jarring voice was loud enough to stun Frodo although he was a bit far apart from the group.  
  
Merry chuckled.  
  
"Isn't it a little too late, old man?" Merry said mockingly. "I have done 'everything' to him!"  
  
Gandalf froze. Was it as bad as he thought?  
  
"What do you want?" Gandalf asked in defeat.  
  
Merry smiled triumphantly. "Small favors, actually." He straightened up and folded his arms on his chest, his thin lips curved into an agitating sneer.  
  
"Show me those places he said," Merry gave a quick glance over Elrond. "he doesn't have here, or prove it to me that they do not exist."  
  
Elrond could have jumped up if not restrained by two strong hands on his shoulders.  
  
"Fool!" Elrond hissed. "Why are you fussing around about this? What do you care if we have prisons or not?"  
  
This all indeed sounded foolish, Merry admitted, but did not have much experience detaining people, had he? He felt confused by this unexpected challenge.  
  
So, with Gandalf walking ahead of him, flanked by guards, Merry went around the House of Elrond for the first time in his life. This very experience astonished him and sent shivers deep in his bones. Not only did he finally get to meet the elves, but he also had a chance to lay eyes on one of their houses! Merry drew in his breath deeply. From outside, it might look beautiful. But the inside was much more astounding! Merry was hardly able to find words to describe it. It looked so - so grand! The rooms, the large halls, the high ceilings, towering pillars, and carved walls - everything was just stunning! Merry caught himself trembling at the display of these majestic creations. And all those chairs, tables, beds, drawers - he could go on forever treasuring all those magnificent objects.  
  
But he did not find what he was looking for.  
  
Gandalf brought him to nearly every corner of the House, including the one where they kept the broken sword of Isildur. Elrond did have basement rooms but when Merry opened one of the doors to the chambers, he knew directly that it was not the one he expected. Instead of dank odor that usually came out of the dungeons, this one had the most soothing scent he had ever encountered. It smelled like dried herbs and they were indeed the only things kept there. And if that one room was not enough to surprise Merry, the sheer multitude of other rooms used to store similar wondrous things certainly did.  
  
"Satisfied?" growled Gandalf as he stole a glance at Merry.  
  
Merry did not say anything. Instead he turned around, going abruptly back to the stairs leading up to the first floor, and climbed up quickly.  
  
Once up, he motioned to the men's leader to come to him and whispered some instructions to him, before exiting the house as if in a hurry. The leader stepped out of the house as well, approaching the man carrying Frodo. The leader whispered stealthily to the man, yet so quietly that Frodo, hanging like a lumpy sack over the man's shoulder, could not catch it. In fact, Frodo could not have cared less about the hushed instructions between the big people; what he cared about was Merry, who was walking away and fading completely of his sight.  
  
Where would his cousin go this time, he thought forlornly. Frodo hoped that Merry would not forget about him and leave him alone here with these cruel men.  
  
Suddenly the man bearing him moved inside the house.  
  
"Where are you going?" Frodo started. They could not do this! He could not be separated from his dear cousin!  
  
But the man ignored him and went on walking until they came to a room which was much bigger than any room Frodo had stepped in before. It was completed with a human-sized with an imposing four posted bed. Frodo's eyes widened. He would just sink in that bed!  
  
The man tossed Frodo on its pillowy softness. Frodo could only sigh contentedly. He almost did not care that he was still tied up. The bed felt so soft and Frodo was certain he would doze off at once. He did not see as the man walked toward a dresser in the far corner of the room, searched inside of its drawers, and finally pulled out a long, silken, white scarf. Scarf in hand, the man strolled back to the bed.  
  
Frodo was lying on his side with his back to the man. He did not see what was coming and when it came, it surprised him. The man wrapped the scarf around Frodo's neck, connecting it loosely to one of the bedposts before making a tight knot to keep it from being unbound easily.  
  
Frodo caught his breath. He tried to move forward which, of course, failed completely. He could not even turn around to meet the man's eyes. Old fears filled his heart. He did not want to be strangled again!  
  
"Don't move, little one," the man breathed on his ear. "Or you will deny yourself air."  
  
Frodo realized that the man was right, and obediently stayed still now. Yet, he could not keep himself from shaking.  
  
"I want my Merry, please," he said hollowly to the far wall as the man stood behind him.  
  
TBC 


	55. Chapter 55

aelfgifu: My beta! You can surely have your own Frodo! Me, too!  
  
Krista: Nothing to sorry about! I know you like the story and that's enough for me. I hope you'll still like it although it's not too confusing anymore. Weird though, my friend also thought I'm identical with surprising plotlines.  
  
endymion: Oh? Still better off than in the book? Well, yeah. Merry doesn't have the Nazgul blade. Sorry about the word. Hope it won't happen again.  
  
Chloe Amethyst: All the best to you, too! Merry will do just fine, for now. But I don't know later. LOL. Well, I just love Frodo so much that I always want to write about him!  
  
Chapter 55  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
Gandalf could not help smiling victoriously as he saw Merry, now tight- lipped, leaving him without a word. After repeatedly getting what he wanted, it must have been hard for the hobbit to have something not work out as planned. Gandalf observed Merry walking, heavily, yet still trying hard to look dignified.  
  
The men outside the hall waited for Merry, bowing slightly as he appeared through the wide door. How amusing, Gandalf thought, smirking again to himself. He wondered how long this was going to last.  
  
Not once did Merry look back at the wizard. Courteously he summoned one of the men, their leader, it seemed. The man leaned down, and Merry, balancing himself on his toes, whispered an order which was promptly followed. The man whirled around to meet the one who carried Frodo. Again instructions were passed on in low voices. Gandalf sighed at his inability to catch anything. The hobbit on the man's back could not hear anything either, although Frodo paid no heed, his whole attention focused on Merry.  
  
From their position, Gandalf could see where Frodo directed his glances. Merry. The hair stood erect on Gandalf's neck as he remembered what Merry had boasted to him.  
  
//"I have done everything to him, wizard. He will only listen to me now."//  
  
And now Gandalf saw with his very own eyes the desperate longing in Frodo's face as Merry left him behind.  
  
The wizard's intention to catch Frodo's attention was cruelly obstructed as the hobbit was carried inside of the house while he himself was wrenched away from it by two muscular men.  
  
"No!" Gandalf tried to wrestle. "Frodo---!"  
  
But the men jerked him forward.  
  
"Come on, old man!"  
  
Gandalf stubbornly continued his struggle, planting his heels to the grassy bed and sometimes halting his steps altogether. But he was no match in strength to the men. His attempts were all swept away easily. The men went on dragging the grey pilgrim.  
  
"Where are you taking me?" grunted Gandalf.  
  
Those foolish ruffians, they only looked at each other and said nothing. But soon Gandalf found out himself. The little devil Merry had apparently thought of something else as the alternative. Gandalf knew he and the men were heading to a stable. One might have been cleared from the horses and prepared to be his and the elves' temporary dwelling.  
  
Gandalf guessed correctly. Inside rather dark but far-from-shabby stable, the wizard found Elrond and his two sons. The three sat on the haystack, with arms bound behind their backs and cords wrapping along their ankles to their knees, causing the elves to stay in the only comfortable position possible - resting their backs against the stable's wooden wall and extending their legs in front of them.  
  
"Gandalf!" cried Elrond, recognizing the figure coming from the light. "The hobbit finally decided to keep us here. It seems that you, too, are going to stay here."  
  
"Meriadoc," murmured Gandalf.  
  
"What?" Elrond's brow furrowed.  
  
"The hobbit's name is Meriadoc Brandybuck, Frodo's own cousin," explained Gandalf. Merry has been so corrupted that he forgets the first thing to do when meeting someone for the first time - introduce himself!"  
  
Gandalf's tone was so serious he looked incredibly funny, inviting a muffled chuckle from the elf lord. But a gasp could not help slipping from Elrond's lips as he learned that this Merry was a close-knit kin to the hobbit he had been so mercilessly tormenting..  
  
"Yes, I'm Merry," said the hobbit with his clear voice as he marched into the barn, startling Gandalf and the twins, but enraging the musing Elrond. In his lengthy, immortal life, Elrond had seen many who were betrayed by those who used to be friends and loyal companions. But most of them, if not all, were men and elves. Never hobbits. Never the creatures Elrond had always thought loving and caring towards their kind.  
  
Apparently Elrond had been mistaken. And now here he was, trussed up and completely at this twisted hobbit's mercy. Elrond did not want to yield to his fear yet he felt frightened.  
  
"But you're wrong," Merry brought himself closer to Gandalf, trapping the wizard in the pools of his grey eyes. "Not only am I Frodo's cousin, but I'm also his best and closest friend, as you might probably have known. I love him, and he adores me. Very much. Do you think you can outweigh my love for him, Gandalf?" Merry squatted, leveling himself to the prisoner's eyes.  
  
Love? What kind of love did this mad hobbit dare to confess, Gandalf pondered. What kind of love was it if it was expressed through pain and humiliation? Gandalf spat disgustedly.  
  
"Hobbits were my favorites until I saw you!" replied Gandalf angrily. "But my feeling towards Frodo and his uncle Bilbo was beyond words. And no matter what, I will never have to use harmful means to make them love me!"  
  
Gandalf was completely aware that his words would cut deep into Merry's mind - if not to bring the hobbit back to his own self, then to boil his blood even more. Gandalf knew he hit the target as Merry's right hand flew up in the air, a backhand ready to blow. Such a small hand. It would not hurt, thought Gandalf. He braced himself to receive the slap, though, whether it would hurt or not.  
  
But the blow never came. Merry's face that had been flushed with fury turned into a mischievous smile. And he pulled back down his arm.  
  
"I have to agree with you," Merry slumped forward, landing on his knees. "I had to hurt Frodo. But I did so for a host of good reasons!"  
  
Gandalf lifted his eyebrows. Now what was Merry talking about?  
  
"I mean," Merry cleared his throat, reading the wizard's confusion. "That silly Frodo didn't want to accept the facts that he was actually a failure, at first. But he was! And still is. Just see the reality. Both of Frodo's parents left him when he was still very young."  
  
Merry raised his palm as Gandalf made to protest.  
  
"I know it was an accident. But why did they have to leave in the late afternoon if not to purposely give up on their only son?"  
  
Gandalf could not believe what he heard, could not believe he got the 'privilege' to witness such a twisted mind at work.  
  
The wizard did not really know Drogo and Primula, Frodo's parents. Nor was he acquainted with the real course of events. Yes, he completely refused to gullibly chew what Merry was feeding him. If there had been a slight abnormality in the way Frodo's parents died, Bilbo would have told him.  
  
Gandalf shook his head in disbelief. Merry just ignored him.  
  
"To make a long story short, I did what I had to do to make Frodo accept the fact that his parents never wanted him," explained Merry, a cold glint in his eye. "The process was quite winding as he didn't want to listen to me at first. So I pushed and pushed until he finally could SEE the real thing." Merry laughed a little and turned sideways, catching Elrond's darkened eyes. The hobbit threw his innocent smile to the elf-lord.  
  
"I realize the process was perhaps a bit painful. But it was worth doing!" Merry's eyes glimmered with joy.  
  
Curious as to know what Marry had actually done to the poor hobbit, Gandalf lost in his thoughts for a brief moment. He did not see that Merry had stood back on his feet again and leaped up to - hug him!  
  
"Oh, I'm so glad that you love Frodo, too!" Merry brightened. "And you said that you care for him so deeply that you don't have words to describe it."  
  
Gandalf gasped as Merry tightened his clasp around Gandalf's neck.  
  
"You are very fond of the hobbit!"  
  
The wizard started to silently question the repeated statement.  
  
"You treasure Frodo above anything else!"  
  
Gandalf squirmed against the embrace. "Perhaps not like that---"  
  
"You hold the hobbit so dear that you are willing to do anything for his sake!"  
  
Gandalf yanked hard and threw himself backward. His head banged painfully at the wall. He saw spots at the result - but at least he was free from Merry's grip.  
  
"To do anything?" Gandalf mumbled, feeling eyes observing him closely in alarm; the eyes of the elves.  
  
* * *  
  
Frodo knew he sounded and looked pathetic. /I want my Merry, please/? That would never come out of his mouth when he was still at the comfort of Bag End. In those days that now seemed so long ago, Frodo would preferred be alone, accompanied only by his books given to him as presents by his uncle, Bilbo. Solitude had been his middle name.  
  
But everything had been changed since Merry, as mean as he was when delivering the lessons, succeeded in making Frodo see how wrong it was to disregard what he had in his life. Frodo should have treasured the moments when his parents, or Bilbo, were still willing to stay with him. Because those moments would not last. Because those who were dear to Frodo finally found out that the boy did not return the attention that they had lavished upon his unworthy self.  
  
So his parents decided to leave. And Bilbo did, too. And Frodo would have ended being lonely until the end of the days if Merry had not generously settled himself as Frodo's only mate and protector. And for that Frodo was willing to pay with his freedom, his own self, anything. As long as Merry would not leave him behind like the others.  
  
Which seemed to be exactly what his younger cousin was doing right now. He disappeared, leaving Frodo alone with this one ruffian, who appeared to drown in ecstasy at the sight of Frodo's misery.  
  
The man was still standing at Frodo's back, arms folded on the chest and head tilted a little to one side. He knew that Frodo must have suffered a lot. He saw everything that came upon the hobbit ever since his group met Frodo and his bossy cousin. And now the fair creature, bound and leashed as he was, was sniffing softly, begging for the other one. The man did not know the nature of hobbits. But looking at Frodo and his behavior, the man could tell that hobbits were attached to each other quite closely. And he found it amusing. He saw Frodo with new eyes. This halfling was as fascinating as a lass, a sword, or a pint of beer, and he wanted to have fun with it. No mercy. No pity. Only cruel excitement played in the man's heart.  
  
The ruffian crept slowly toward Frodo. Hearing the steps getting close to him, Frodo stunned and held his breath. His heart was drumming and Frodo started to shake. Name--- Name! He needed a name to scream at.  
  
"No---!" Frodo was panting heavily, feeling the bed dip a little from the man's weight.  
  
"Merry!! HEL---!"  
  
His scream was muffled as the man clamped his hand over Frodo's mouth.  
  
"Hush," silenced the man gently. "Why should you call for your tiny guard? I told you I don't like tattlers. So keep quiet! I'm a hundred times better than him!"  
  
Frodo could only freeze and lie silently. Nodding in satisfaction, the man lifted his hand off Frodo. But he did not like it that Frodo was lying with his back on him. He wanted the hobbit to face him so that he could deeply savor Frodo's suffering. The man was dying to have the beautiful blue eyes look at him in terror. The big person entangled his fingers in Frodo's curly hair and tugged it sharply backward. Meeting the man's eyes, Frodo could only gaze apprehensively, his lips trembling slightly.  
  
"Huh---!?" Frodo breathed hard in panic, quivering even more violently. "What do you want?"  
  
TBC  
  
AN: I love it that you are still following my story and I do hope that you would leave a word or two to let me know that you have been reading it. I have several stories that have become my favorites:  
  
Ring Around the Merry, by my beloved beta, aelfgifu (Emma)  
  
On the Banks of the Brandywine, by my other beta, the lovely MBradford  
  
Failure and In Between by dearest Krista  
  
Go, check them out and review them as soon as possible! 


	56. Chapter 56

Mei: Thank you! I'm thrilled to have you review my story. finally. LOL. But maybe, do you mind putting your email so I can write you personally? I'm sorry, but I have to warn you for this chapter.  
  
MBradford: Frodo did need someone to help him. OMG!  
  
Chloe Amethyst: And I hope you are strong enough for this chapter. Yes, Merry's mind is twisted enough he doesn't know what's real and unreal.  
  
Krista: Thank you for your support, Krista. Please tell me what you think about this chapter. Am I going to far?  
  
Chapter 56  
  
Warning: AU, extreme angst (with a slight ray of slash, I guess)  
  
"Because he is WEAK, Pip!" Sam delivered his undeniable point. "And that makes him guilty, too. I'm talking about Merry we used to know, not the one under the Ring's domination."  
  
For a moment no one uttered a word. There were only the sounds of the woods: wind blowing in the trees, birds chirping, and many others from forest creatures. But soon those were joined by another - Pippin's sobbing which got louder and louder with each passing moment.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
A hoarse, low voice startled both hobbits. They literally jumped. They turned around and found the owner of the voice. Strider.  
  
"Ted and I have just realized how far both of you are behind so I decided to check on you," said the ranger flatly. His brow creased slightly and he gazed down at Sam. "Why did Pippin dismount from the pony? I thought he was still unwell. Sam?"  
  
"So? What's it with that hobbit this time? Has he been pestering you again?"  
  
"He -- He has to do something," Sam murmured.  
  
"Do what?" asked Strider impatiently, furrowing his brows. He threw a glance down at Pippin, then faced Sam again, still impatient.  
  
"He---"  
  
"What, Sam?!"  
  
"He has to take a pee!" Sam almost cried, hiding the real reason why they suddenly halted. He cast his eyes to a different direction, not even to Pippin, who involuntarily let his jaw drop open. With widened eyes, he stared at the back of Sam's head. Frodo's loyal gardener had just saved him from the man's wrath. Although it was Sam who started asking him about Frodo and Merry, Pippin knew that the ranger would address his anger toward him - Merry's loyal henchman.  
  
Strider looked stunned. "Oh," he mumbled. "I thought---"  
  
The ranger left his sentence hanging, gazing tiredly at Sam who was still turning away from him, and trudged away. In the distance, Ted got his breath back. He had been holding it for a while as he watched the whole scene. They could not afford to lose any more time now, not to waste time any longer especially to deal with that little urchin. Yet, on the other hand, Pippin had showed enough of his returning sanity, and that made Ted hope Strider did not lose his temper toward that lad. Despite the things that had been said about Pippin's ill treatment to Frodo, Ted felt pity for the little hobbit.  
  
The piteous lad, on the verge of tears, was trying to reach at Sam's heart. Doubtfully, he trailed his fingers on Sam's elbow. Pippin was relieved when Sam did not flinch.  
  
"Thank you, Sam," Pippin said softly.  
  
Sam shrugged, walking away with the pony dragged behind him. Not once did he look back at Pippin. "No need to. It's my fault anyway."  
  
Pippin was struggling to follow Sam's determined steps. They were so fast and strong, not seemingly to be hindered at all by the slow paces of the pony. And they were too fast for Pippin's battered body. The small hobbit started wheezing.  
  
"But you're right, Sam," half-cried Pip in the middle of his panting breaths. "Merry's guilty, weak, and outrageous. I don't know how I'm going to be able to make up for it."  
  
Sam halted at once, turning around.  
  
"You make up for what you're doing, Pip, not for the deeds of others."  
  
* * *  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
The man only snickered at Frodo's question.  
  
His grasp dug deeper in the hobbit's curls and pulled Frodo's head as far back as the scarf would allow. Frodo gave a soft whimper not only because of the fear but also for the discomfort of it. That and also his squeezed left arm. It had been in the same position for quite some time, to be in between Frodo's own body and the bed. The blood flow was almost cut down entirely and that left his arm feeling completely numb.  
  
Frodo stayed still helplessly, the sensation caused by the hand in his hair - biting into his scalp more painfully every single minute. His lips slowly parted forming soundless cry. Miserably, Frodo remembered Merry having told this man not to do anything harmful to him. But Frodo did not want to enrage this ruffian should he pester again. The man could decide to call upon his friends to 'give him a hand'.  
  
And - oh, what had been exchanged between this man and his leader? Frodo recalled their whispering to each other when Merry had left. What had possibly been discussed? Were they planning on doing something nasty to him? Frodo started to struggle anew. Now he regretted not paying more attention to those big folk. His mind had been occupied only by the thoughts of Merry, Merry, and Merry. Ah, Merry. Frodo prayed silently for his cousin to come to save him.  
  
So, the mistake was repeated.  
  
Once more, Frodo's mind was busy thinking of none other than his beloved guardian Merry that he did not realize what the man had been doing.  
  
Crouching down, the human reached for something hidden in one of his boots. A dagger. Quite small, though, that Frodo was still not aware of its existence until the cold metal connected with the soft complexion of his cheek. Just then that he could not hold back his shriek. A fist came down fast and hard on the small of Frodo's back as the result. Frodo bucked helplessly, his scream forced to die down. The man, no longer holding the knife as he threw it away and used his free hand to hit Frodo, hissed a cruel, low threat.  
  
"I'd prefer if you don't make any sound, halfling!"  
  
Half recovered from the surprising, painful blow, Frodo nodded submissively. His eyes shone wild with apprehension.  
  
"Or I just have to gag you, too," added the man. "That will be too bad, though, 'cause I love your delicious whimpers." Feeling tingly, Frodo could feel the man leer on his neck.  
  
"But we can let your Merry come too quickly and keep me from having fun!"  
  
Somehow the man had his knife back and started caressing Frodo's face using its smooth surface. Still gripping at Frodo's hair so that the hobbit could not move, the man smoothed Frodo's eyebrows one after another.  
  
"Hmm --- I like it when you frown, little one," purred the man softly. "You with your frightened expression is just irresistible. And added with this ingredient," the man slid his knife down both Frodo's lids, forcing the hobbit to flutter them shut. The cold sensation from the knife chilled Frodo's heart, and he stopped breathing without realizing it. "You'll make a perfect dessert. Or appetizer?"  
  
"Then, of course, your skin," the man went on. Frodo's eyes snapped open and he desperately sucked in the air to his lungs. He felt relieved beyond words that the man did not intend to hurt his eyes. But---  
  
"Your skin is unbelievably delicate, Frodo. Has anybody ever told you how delightful it tastes? Has anybody ever TASTED it? What do you say if I do that, Frodo?" Frodo never thought the man would really do what he said until Frodo felt him move forward and run his tongue over Frodo's right cheek - the only cheek he could reach, fortunately. Frodo could not help wincing and yelping as stinky saliva smeared over his skin.  
  
"I said no sound!" The man was enraged and pressed the knife a little too deep into Frodo's cheek that its edge left a small, thin cut, leaving a small trail of blood. Frodo's knees weakened at the sharp pain and the fact that the man had finally left a physical mark on his body as he tormented Frodo.  
  
He started to sob.  
  
Strangely, the man released his grasp on Frodo's hair and brushed it backward instead, gently. His tenderness almost overwhelmed Frodo who was quivering heavily now.  
  
"Ssshh---" whispered the man at Frodo's ear. "See what you have done? Now you're wounded. And who did that to you but yourself?"  
  
Frodo was sobbing freely now. He shut his eyes as the man continued tracing down the contour of his face with his cursed knife, lingering a little too long on Frodo's lips. With the tip of the knife, the man circled the hobbit's full, rosy lips, pressing their lower part so it was slightly open. Frodo felt as if his heart was ready to burst. Tears that were rolling down his face had also worsened things. They cleverly took a direct route to the cut on the cheek making the hobbit whimper in pain. And still the man rubbed his weapon slowly along the lips, circling around them once more, and finally left them to go to Frodo's pointed, cleft chin and began playing with it. Frodo's body was still trembling but silently he sent his gratitude to the Valar for the scarf had unintentionally protected his neck from the man's possible assault. What now?  
  
Apparently Frodo did not have to wait too long as the man proceeded - running his blade to the front side of Frodo's shirt. The hobbit tensed as the knife ghosted over his body through the fabric. Then the man came to the first button of the shirt and - snatched it off! Frodo caught his breath loudly and started to thrash about.  
  
"NO!" Frodo's piercing cry followed the harsh thrashing, and he violently caught himself in the scarf and started to choke. But Frodo gave no care. He could see where this man was going and he was determined to stop him even if it cost him his life.  
  
But a blow as hard as Sam's gaffer's hammer suddenly struck Frodo on the face. Frodo reeled as bright stars emerged before his eyes, accompanying him almost to a miserable slumber. But the man would not let Frodo faint. He grabbed the knot of the silk scarf above Frodo's head and jerked it tight. Frodo was wrenched up and he let out a strangled howl.  
  
That infuriated the man more.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you NOT TO SCREAM OR EVEN OPEN YOUR MOUTH!"  
  
The man practically blared himself out as Frodo writhed helplessly in front of him, face contorted and unable to breathe, with his cheek still throbbing unceasingly.  
  
Soon Frodo felt like drifting away, unaware of what the man was doing - angrily ripping off each and every button of the wrecked hobbit. When the last button had been completely yanked away, the ruffian released his grip on Frodo's leash, got off the bed, and grinned cruelly over his work.  
  
TBC 


	57. Chapter 57

Oddwen: You don't have to worry. Frodo is much too precious to be treated as such.  
  
Aelfgifu: Frodo will miss Merry much in the next chapters. :)  
  
Mbradford: Blame it to Prof. Tolkien and Peter Jackson. He.. he..  
  
Endymion: No need to sorry, love. Yeah, I think I need YOU for the therapy.  
  
Krista: Mmm, the confusing plot must come from the confused mind of me. :  
  
AN: As you readers might have noticed, starting Chap 52 (if I'm not mistaken) I asked my beloved beta, Emma, to read the story first before posting the chapters. So, if you see any improvement at all, that's the work of her as well. (Emma, you rock!)  
  
Chapter 57  
  
Warning: AU, angst  
  
"To do anything?" Gandalf mumbled, feeling eyes observing him closely in alarm; the eyes of the elves.  
  
"Yes. You will. For me," sneered Merry.  
  
Gandalf stared at him closely as if trying to put the hobbit under his spell. "Then what? You will release Frodo into my keeping?"  
  
Merry did not budge. In fact, his smirk grew wider as both corners of his lips stretched to their maximum. "Why should I do that, Gandalf? I don't have to, do I? I have the most power here. It is you who should worry about what will happen to dear Frodo should you fail to comply with my orders."  
  
Gandalf tried not to shudder at the subtle threat. Calming himself down, the wizard proposed another treaty.  
  
"Why, at least, let me stay close to him while I'm doing whatever you ask of me. I want to make sure you keep your word."  
  
Merry seemed to be thinking the plea over. He briefly and slowly swept the barn with his squinting eyes. "I'll tell you what--" Merry glanced around again. "-never! I will never bow down to what you say. This is my game, with my rules. And one more thing - the key to all of this - I have Frodo, and I will see at what point you finally decide to sacrifice him!"  
  
Neither Gandalf nor the elves now could hide their amazement at how evilness had taken over Merry entirely. There seemed to be no gaps in his soul left for the bigger folks to get into and help him get back to normal.  
  
Merry's right hand reached to his back and - Gandalf flinched involuntarily, fearing it would bring back an intimidating object. Merry chuckled a little at this. It was nothing of the sort. His hand hoisted high a kind of scroll, eliciting gasps among the tied figures when the parchment unscrolled. It was a map. And as Elrond came back to his senses, he remembered that it was his map. Merry laughed again.  
  
"I should thank Gandalf for showing me around your incredible house, Lord Elrond," Merry chatted gleefully in a mocking tone. "And when we were strolling around your study, I came across this," he wagged about the thin vellum of the map. "And I decided to take it. I thought it would come in handy later on." Merry's eyes wandered vibrantly from Elrond to Gandalf, and back again to the elf.  
  
With his other hand, Merry reached out at the stick holding the other end of the parchment, and lowered the map down to the hay-covered ground. He rolled out the scroll so that it revealed both Rivendell and the east side of Middle Earth. Gandalf strained to see which location Merry was pointing at. The hobbit himself seemed to be immersed in deep thought.  
  
"This is too far," Merry mumbled to himself. "But this is definitely a great place to conquer. Or, well, it might help to have this small piece first."  
  
Gandalf raised one of his eyebrows. Merry's forefinger was nudging at an area named 'Mirkwood'. It was located at the east of Rivendell, easy to reach by the Old Forest Road. The wizard inhaled sharply. Merry could not plan to attack that piece of land! He must not! Mirkwood had always been Rivendell's closest ally. Merry was correct when he mentioned the place he had pointed out at the map earlier (Lorien) was too far. Mirkwood was much closer than Lorien to Rivendell.  
  
"Gandalf," Merry tilted his face up, querying, "who lives in M - mirkwood?" He had to glance back at the map to pronounce the place's name correctly.  
  
"Gandalf?!" Merry asked again more sharply, when there was no answer from the grey man. Merry heaved in false frustration.  
  
"Such an easy question, old man. Must you always make it difficult for us? Do I have to show you the consequence this early stage? Frodo knows what becomes of him if he is disobedient. Do you seriously want to know what becomes of Him if YOU are unruly, too?"  
  
Refusing to be intimidated, Gandalf snorted. "You may hold the Ring of power now, Brandybuck, but you are -" he blew air off his nose. "How old are you now? Thirty? Thirty Five? You can't threaten a wizard who had seen thousands of winters with those empty, bubbling words, //lad//!"  
  
Merry paled. Vaguely he heard chuckles from the elves' direction. His hand involuntarily flew to his breast pocket, fondling the Ring through the fabric as if attempting to draw strength from it. Slowly he withdrew and paced out completely. Gandalf barely had a chance to catch his breath before Merry had come back, flanked by four big brutes.  
  
"Bring these two and leave the others!" Merry ordered shortly and said no more, just stomping out again.  
  
With question marks on their faces, Gandalf and Elrond let themselves pulled up and dragged out, back to the light-bathed surroundings once more. If their guess was correct, they would soon meet Frodo again. And that was the only thing Gandalf wanted right now. So he just kept silent, not wanting to prevent this meeting from occurring.  
  
Gandalf kept his eyes fixed on Merry who strutted ahead of them with his short, fast strides, heading exactly to where the wizard had predicted, Elrond's house.  
  
Merry led Gandalf, Elrond, and the men through the big door in the front, and they were welcomed by a guard who stooped a little as the hobbit, standing on his toes, asked something in a low voice. The man hissed his answer in Merry's ear. Nodding his understanding, Merry turned to the men grasping Gandalf and Elrond in their arms.  
  
"Follow me!"  
  
And on Gandalf and the elf-lord went, lurching forward in their captors' hands, trying to follow their long steps to go through the winding corridors in the House of Healing. The elf cursed silently at the huge size of it. It came to him that he himself had seldom wandered around this far---  
  
--- until they finally reached a room with a door no different than any other doors they had passed by. It was crafted from dark, mahogany wood that led to a room Elrond felt sure was as big as any other room in the homely house. Merry reached at the door knob but it was locked, something Merry found to be questionable and annoying; that in addition to the fact that nobody was guarding the room.  
  
"Open the door!" demanded Merry in a voice bigger than that of a normal hobbit.  
  
Merry banged at it with both of his fists. Once, twice, and finally the lock clicked and the door flrw ajar. Merry's eyes gleamed delightedly. He did not know than an unexpected sight would greet his eyes. Merry turned to his prisoners.  
  
"Now you have the chance to see what happens when you are disobedient! Come! I'll show you." He turned around again and swaggered arrogantly into the chamber, his shoulders lifted proudly - only to slump back down again. His eyes bulging out in disbelief, Merry ran across the room.  
  
"Frodo! What have they done to you?!" His trembling voice was full of both deep anguish and profound fury.  
  
~ Flashback ~  
  
The first thing Frodo became aware once he came to was the lack of pressure on several places of his body: neck, arms, and hands. Slowly Frodo opened his eyes, and although he was directly welcomed with throbbing pains in the right side of his face, his heart screamed in joy. He was no longer bound! The leash was gone. His wrists and ankles were no longer restrained. And Frodo was lying comfortably on his back in the big, four-poster bed. Now that he was up he felt a cold wind breezing upon his uncovered, exposed chest. Instinctively Frodo tugged at his torn shirt and wrapped his arms around himself, curling up to warm his chilling body.  
  
It took some time for Frodo to wake his mind up and remind himself that this was the opportunity he was waiting for. 'No, please. Let me just relax for a while,' the other part of his mind pleaded. And Frodo unwrapped his arms to cuddle up on the velvety pillow that rested under his head. 'Mmm,' he mumbled in the comfort he had just discovered, eyelids drooping down.  
  
'Frodo, you cannot do this!' A voice harshly scolded him and Frodo jumped up, looking around nervously. But no one was in the room. That voice was his own conscious.  
  
But again, Frodo found it difficult to leave all this luxury behind. For the first time after only Valar knew how long, he could freely move all his limbs, see around unhindered by any blindfold, and take a deep breath - a real deep breath - that was repeatedly denied him by something throttling at his throat or by himself every time he held his breath due to extreme pains being inflicted upon him.  
  
'Please, please,' Frodo hummed again, throwing his frail figure back to the bed, this time to lie on his stomach. Rubbing the smooth, satin bed sheet with his two arms, moving them like a flying butterfly, Frodo clenched his eyes in agonized peace. He felt so peaceful yet he knew this was all artificial. His freedom was a mere fantasy. The men and orcs and --- Merry were still out there, holding him captive.  
  
Hugging the pillow tightly and nuzzling his face deep into it, Frodo unconsciously wept. Merry might be his guardian but he was harsh sometimes. And just now, Merry had left him stranded in the hands of a detestable ruffian who - who had acted disgustingly toward Frodo, who had strangely unbound him - for what? To harass him more?  
  
And all of a sudden his mind snapped to the present. Of course! The man must have left him unleashed and unconstrained so that he could hurt Frodo more.  
  
With his eyes shining like a feral animal's, Frodo blazed around the room, the new realization making him panicked. He jumped off the bed carelessly. Gods, no! He could not afford to have his ankle twisted now. Checking his balance, Frodo drew a breath in relief. No, his ankles were fine.  
  
Cold, marble-tiled floor felt smooth under Frodo's feet and he tiptoed to the door, afraid that his steps could still emit some sound. It felt like hours before Frodo finally reached the strong, wooden door - only to find that it was locked, much to his dismay. Deep down he already had predicted that condition.  
  
Forgetting his previous intent to be as silent as he could, Frodo, triggered by his disappointment, banged at the door with the balls of his hands in fury and anquish. Frodo's desperate pounding resulted in nothing but bruises and new, exploding pains.  
  
--- and roars of laughter behind the suddenly open door.  
  
TBC  
  
AN: I know you are reading it and for that I send my deepest gratitude. Now, would you leave a word or two for this writer? She'll love you forever for that! - Iorhael 


	58. Chapter 58

AN: I'm so thankful for my beta, Emma, who is patiently reading all the things I send her. LOL. I hope she doesn't feel burdened at all. And to the reviewers, there will never be enough thanks to all of you for all your effort to send me some words. Your reviews are the most important fuel that keeps this story running. So, please keep reading and reviewing! I would like to point out too that all the stories in ffnet are great and some of them have become so dear to me. Those written by Emma, MBradford (she is my beta, too, for my other stories), Krista, Aralithiel, Budgielover are some to name. (endymion, why not writing your story and post it? Come on! Join the club!) And now for my lovely reviewers:  
  
Mei: Thanks for reviewing and logging in first (I like to reply to emails now. LOL) Yeah, Frodo might not be in clear danger. But who knows?  
  
Chloe Amethyst: Sam and Strider are on the way! Don't worry. But will they be useful? Let's find it out! Thanks to YOU for reading and reviewing, dear.  
  
endymion: Please, I don't want you to crack down. I'm still in need of reviews! He he. And come back soon from Hungary. Oh, I would love to hear your story from your journey.  
  
Krista: I know you were reading! A nasty cliffhanger from a nasty hobbit lass? LOL.  
  
MBradford: You must be some kind of an oracle to show me a way for this story. Thank you, love. Throw me in some more hunches!  
  
Chapter 58  
  
Warning: AU, angst, violence  
  
~ still flashback ~  
  
Frodo was paralyzed in terror as the door banged open hard, hitting the wall behind it. Panic swiftly spread from his thumping heart to his entire body. His throat closed the airway to his lungs.  
  
Twisting his head around, Frodo caught sight of the wide glass pane which was impossible to open since it was planted there and was not meant for passing through. It crossed his mind to smash the glass but the room lacked any equipment Frodo might need. He could have used his fist to shatter the glass into pieces had it not stood too high. There was a dresser for Frodo to climb onto that was high enough, but unfortunately it proudly stood in the far corner of the room, looking strongly built - and so awfully heavy. It was as if the thing was mocking Frodo for his inabilities to move it even an inch.  
  
Desperately Frodo swept his gaze around again and catching a glimpse of the enormous bed behind him. Frodo choked a little as he realized something. The bed! Of course! Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? As good as its softness could swallow Frodo whole, the space beneath it was also spacious enough to hide him from the men's sight. Feeling the spirit rise in him again, Frodo catapulted toward the bed and slid smoothly under, stashing himself beneath it.  
  
Frodo could not have done better, though, as he was already slowed down by his own previous hysteria. The men saw what he was doing and instantly burst through the door in an attempt to recapture him. But unlike Frodo's diminutive figure, the men's frames proved far too bulky to follow Frodo under the bed.  
  
Curses filled the air as the leader of those men, the one whose warg had borne Frodo on its back, harshly spat on another.  
  
"This is all your fault with your 'big' idea!" Hull, a henchman of Slater, that leader, bent his shoulders apprehensively.  
  
"But Slater, it was you who told me to do something to make this more fun, so I released him from his bonds. I thought that could be fun." An ugly smirk decorated his even more hideous face. "A little hide and seek like this is your favorite, right?"  
  
Slater snarled and pushed Hull down to fetch their object of this 'fun' activity. A desperate cry poured out of Frodo's mouth as he caught sight of Hull's wild eyes and leering smile. Frodo backed out, pressing himself to the wall behind him and fastening his arms around his folded legs.  
  
Hull was trying his luck, lying as low as he could until his chest and belly pressed onto the floor, and creeping forward to reach Frodo.  
  
"No!" screamed Frodo, feeling exactly like a trapped animal whose hunter was now giggling and extending his hands to seize his prey.  
  
But soon Hull gave up. The stretch between the floor and the bed was still not enough for him and his body hurt all over. Breathing hard, Hull pulled back, swearing harshly.  
  
More heads were appearing on the other side of the bed.  
  
"Peek-a-boo!" cried one of them. Frodo gasped and thrashed his head wildly.  
  
"You can't do this! YOU CAN'T!" He was near hysteria again and afraid that his mind would not stand any of these atrocities anymore. But Frodo could not let himself caught, suspecting what might happen to him if he did.  
  
Hull reappeared, still with his repulsive smirk.  
  
"Why not? What do you think we will do to you, huh? Nothing. We won't do you a thing! We're just going to have fun. Right, mates?" Hull threw a meaningful glance to the two others. They replied with clamors of laughter. Frodo quivered violently, his eyes moving crazily toward the three ruffians. It was such a fortune that his body was small enough he could still keep the men away from him.  
  
They could go on forever like that. And as long as Frodo did not flail his arms, there was nothing the men could do to ensnare him.  
  
Slater growled.  
  
"I've had it up to here!" he gestured his right hand to his own chin. "Take him out now!"  
  
The three men crouching on the floor looked up at him in fearful yet respectful gazes. But how were they supposed to do that?  
  
"Master," called Hull shakily. "But the halfling's curling up like a cocoon. We simply can' t reach him."  
  
"Fool!" blared Slater. "Then make him uncurl himself!" The man threw a small pouch to Hull, who then opened it and sneezed at the sharp smell of its contents.  
  
"Don't smell it, idiot!" Slater's voice again. "It's a very strong powder that feels extremely hot to your senses. It's not lethal, though. A great work by Saruman himself."  
  
Hull sneered, nodding off understandingly. Crouching down again, he took a fist of the dust and slowly crawled along the side of the bed to get him as close as possible to Frodo. Mouth gaping, Frodo could only stare questioningly at the man. A fist suddenly stretched out toward Frodo's trembling figure and as it unclenched jerkingly, dust burst forth toward Frodo's eyes.  
  
"Aah!" Frodo cried out, fingers roving over his involuntarily close eyes, desperately trying to scrape off the intruding substance, but in vain. The dust had pierced deeply into Frodo's eyes, like hundreds of needles stabbing the soft tissue of his eyeballs. That alone was agonizing enough that Frodo was shrieking miserably for an entire passing moment. And when the pinpricks had subsided and left the hobbit with numbers of uncomfortable tickles, Frodo opened his eyes only to find out that he could not see a thing. Frodo gasped in shock.  
  
"No, oh no!" Frodo whimpered in despair. His hands flew back to his eyes, making sure that they did open. They did - yet nothing came into sight. In desperation, Frodo flailed his hands, trying to find any supports around him.  
  
That was exactly what the men were waiting for. Grinning with satisfaction, Hull reached for Frodo's left leg and pulled it hard. Frodo yelped and gave a powerful tug in the opposite direction. He forgot that there, prying arms were waiting. From Frodo's right side, one of the men successfully grabbed Frodo's wrist and started to drag him out.  
  
Frodo yelped as he came to realize how degrading his position was right now - lying on his back with the right arm pulled to one end and his left leg yanked to another. But those cruel Isengarders needed to make up their minds as to which direction Frodo should be taken. Otherwise they would just stretch him mercilessly yet aimlessly.  
  
Not knowing what the men were going to do next, Frodo's heart leapt with hope as the claws on his wrist unfastened. But as he scrambled up to a sitting position, a vise-like grip snatched around his other ankle and with a jerking tug, Frodo was dragged out from under the bed.  
  
"Let me go!" Frodo wheezed in mounting panic and struggled backward. But Hull, unhindered by any of it, continued on pulling and in less than seconds, he had Frodo hauled out.  
  
Still thrashing blindly at first, Frodo stilled when a stinging slap lashed across his face.  
  
"That's better." Frodo heard someone grumble as rushing steps paced closer. A moment later he felt himself being lifted up by his arms which were then wrenched behind his back.  
  
"Let go," Frodo panted weakly. He could not imagine how vulnerable his situation was. The dread in his heart caused tears to trickle down his cheeks from his unseeing eyes.  
  
"There, there. Don't cry, little one." A voice was heard again, meaning to be a comfort but sounding more like a subtle menace to Frodo's ears.  
  
"Why - why are you doing this?" Frodo whispered in between his sobs. His heart sank more deeply as nobody replied; they only laughed over and over.  
  
Then something touched his lips, forcing its way into Frodo's mouth. It felt long, smooth, and thin. Frodo jerked, causing the men to tighten their grips on his arms. Frodo winced and sharply turned his face sideways to reject the intrusion. A hand entangled in Frodo's hair, forcing his face to keep still.  
  
"Plea - th," begged Frodo unclearly as his tongue twirled around the thing.  
  
"Don't worry, Frodo." The mention of his name froze the scared hobbit. "We're friends, aren't we?" A man, Slater, pulled out the pipe he had been inserting into Frodo's mouth and wagged it under the hobbit's nose.  
  
"I believe you have smoked a pipe before. I heard all halflings do. So, why don't we puff our friendship pipe together?" Frodo heard Slater inhale deeply and blow out the smoke to his face, making him cough terribly. Frodo had never smelled this kind of scent before. Apparently some kind of weed only familiar to humans and not to hobbits.  
  
"Please," Frodo shook his head. "That's not the thing I usually take. I'm afraid--"  
  
But his words were cut off sharply as Slater thrust the pipe back between Frodo's small lips. His other hand that was nestled in the hobbit's curls moved to his jaw, pressing it painfully. Frodo whimpered but he was not inhaling.  
  
"Breathe it in!" snarled Slater, and gave more pressure on Frodo's jaw when he kept being passive. Still Frodo resisted taking a puff.  
  
Without the hobbit knowing it, Slater nodded to Hull, who gladly took the sign. Doubtlessly he swung his huge fist and planted it forcefully onto Frodo's stomach. Eyes widened with shock and pain, Frodo screeched piteously and would have doubled over if not for the restraining hand.  
  
"Well?" prompted Slater calmly. Gasping desperately for air, Frodo nodded in despair as more tears flowed down his cheeks, chin and his bare chest.  
  
"I'll smoke," his small voice sounded bleary and hollow, his eyes staring apprehensively to a spot where no one was standing. Eyes so blue yet so blind. "Don't hurt me again. Please."  
  
Torments had almost been Frodo's loyal companion but he knew that he simply could not make himself get accustomed to them - save perhaps if his mind snapped. At that time Frodo might not feel the fear anymore.  
  
Frodo sniffed the weed closing in under his nose again and started to inhale deeply with his mouth. Now perhaps his mind had really snapped as he let others do anything to him instead of fighting it. But smoking - the activity was something Frodo had always done. So, there was nothing to be afraid of. Was it?  
  
Frodo's mind was wandering wildly as fog suddenly clouded over it.  
  
"Dizzy," he mumbled incoherently. His head lolled to his chest, but a second later it was thrown far to the back again, making him look like a ragged doll that was being rocked back and forth. Slater kept forcing Frodo to inhale and puff out almost at the same time, never taking out the cask of Frodo's mouth even after seeing how the hobbit was coughing in an apparent agony.  
  
"Dizzy," repeated Frodo, feeling more and more nauseous and beginning to feel light in his head. The world was floating around him and Frodo was insensible of everything that was happening in it. Never had he got high when he smoked, though. Must be a powerful kind of weed the men had here, a deeper part of Frodo's conscious mind tried to reason out. But the outer Frodo could not care less. *** "Dizzy."  
  
And Frodo cast his eyes at a small hobbit plopping down before him. Merry. A very young Merry.  
  
"I told you not to meddle in grown ups' affair!" Frodo reached down and snatched his pipe back from Merry. "This is nothing for babies."  
  
"I'm not a baby!" cried Merry, pouting by thrusting out his thin lower lip.  
  
"Oh yes, you are." Frodo could not hold himself from giving the apple-rose cheek one or two squeezes. Merry giggled cutely. Yes, that was was at that time. A cute Merry.  
  
Frodo blinked back a tear. How he missed those times. How he missed Merry! A loving Merry. Yes, another side of his younger cousin had been shown to Frodo as he was carefully and lovingly bathed by the only friend he owned.  
  
But Frodo also realized something. As a friend Merry could be very obsessive. A jealous Merry. Shuddering slightly, Frodo came to recall how Merry insistently compelled him to accept the fact that he was the only friend, guard, and protector of Frodo. Not Gandalf. Not his uncle Bilbo. And not even both of his parents that had long abandoned him. Sniffing silently, Frodo relived the moment when he finally saw the truth in Merry's words. Especially after witnessing what Merry did to Pippin after the smaller cousin tried to drown Frodo. A punishing Merry. That was punishment indeed that Merry granted his own cousin, and a harsh one, too. Frodo was thankful for what had been done on his behalf but could not help feeling sorry for Pippin.  
  
Merry was everything to Frodo, no matter what his mood: infuriated, jubilant, disappointed, satisfied, troubled, tranquil, cautious, carefree.  
  
* * * Frodo had long ceased inhaling the pipe held persistently by Slater. The man finally gave up noticing how Frodo's head was lolling down limply without any sign that it would toss back anytime soon.  
  
TBC  
  
AN (again?!): Hmm, I'm still dying to hear from some lurkers out there, if there is any--- 


	59. Chapter 59

AN: I'm very sorry for the late update!  Blame it on my muses that forced me to have new ideas!  But don't worry.  I'm not abandoning this story!  I won't dare! 

Erica: Oh, thanks for reviewing it!  I'm always thrilled to hear from new readers (not new, eh?) Please, read along!

aelfgifu: Don't worry.  I keep taking (stealing, too? :)) ideas from great stories out there.  And I agree, I keep falling to his charming though dazed blue eyes.  Frodo!!

Ilmare: I used to be a lurker, too.  No worries.  And I think I still am.  But I'm trying my best!  Sorry for the lateness.  Hope you still continue reading!

endymion: I hope you've come back.  I miss you!  How's the holiday?

Chloe Amethyst: I wonder if there was such a thing.  LOL.  And I wonder what you will think of the coming idea.

Krista: Do you like the men to do anything while Frodo was conscious or unconscious?  Ha ha.  I'll do both!

MBradford: Oh, my other beta!  Merry would show up and so would the others.  I'm wondering myself when I'm able to finally come to the end.

Chapter 59

Warning: AU, violence

~ Present time ~

Strider swiped aside some leaves hanging on lower twigs of a tree and looked down at the sloping ground ahead of him.  Ted stopped short behind him, puffing out exhausted breaths after the many hours of walking without rest.  Pippin, now back on the pony lead slowly by Sam, exhaled loudly.  He was the one who felt most relieved knowing that they were not too far from Merry now.

Pippin knew how Sam worried to death thinking about his beloved master.  Or how Ted felt jittery imagining what else 'that' hobbit might do that would worsen Frodo's condition.  The others could only dread what might have happened to Frodo, while he, Pippin, knew exactly what the past treatments were that Merry – and himself – had imposed on their poor cousin.  And none of them were proper, even the bathing.  All the cares had been directed at one goal – to break Frodo and make him feel low and worthless beyond belief.

Pippin dismounted the pony soundlessly and walked forward until he stood next to the ranger.  The hobbit looked down, too.

"A river," muttered Pippin gloomily.  "How are we supposed to cross it?  Should we swim?"

As if wrenched back from his reverie, Strider snapped his head up and stared down sideways at Pippin.

"Do not despair, little master," smiled the ranger.  "Bruinen River has several spots where the water does not run deep.  We can easily walk across it to its ford on the other side."

"Thank gods," Pippin took a deep breath.  "And then where are we going?"

Strider's smile grew wider.  Pippin's innocence intrigued him so.  The ranger fell to his knees beside Pippin and his right arm sneaked around the young hobbit's shoulders.  He gestured Pippin to cast his eyes upward.  Strider's left hand pointed at some place uphill across the river.

"There lies Rivendell, the last homely house - the house of elves, guided by Lord Elrond.  That's where we are going.  You said it was the place your cousin, Merry, was heading, did you not?  Well, we are not too far away from him."

Pippin's eyes widened in joy and wariness, too.  So, finally they would be able to save Frodo, he thought.  But another part of his mind worried that they might have been too late.  Frodo might have gone.  And, Pippin shrugged to himself as he did not really want to admit it, but he wondered what would become of Merry?  He hoped Strider and the rest would have some mercy upon his cousin and not treat him too harshly.  It was the Ring's influence that had made Merry behave strangely.

Strider stood up.

"Come.  We must get going.  But," Strider warned, "we have to be extra careful.  Remember the men and orcs Pippin said were accompanying his cousins?  I have not seen them but they must still be around."  The ranger turned around to meet Ted's worried gaze.  "We have to do our best, right, Ted?"  Strider dabbed Ted on the shoulder.  "Frodo is in need of us."

Ted nodded silently.

So, down crept the small group of men and hobbits with the ranger in the front, followed by Pippin and Sam who was still holding the pony by the leash.  Ted followed closely at their back.

Strider and the company moved forward with neither the same speed nor the same manner a before.  They practically crept forward this time, though not really crawling, progressing silently from tree to tree, from flock of bushes to other flocks of bushes, cautiously aware of what might be awaiting them down there.

--- But definitely not aware of what probably lurked BEHIND them.  A swooshing sound of an arrow swiftly slicing the air just a little to the left of Strider's ear stiffened the man.  He stilled abruptly, much to Pippin's surprise.  The ranger quickly drew out his sword and turned back, ready to strike their attacker – when suddenly he heard a loud, hoarse squeak from the direction of the ford.

*   *   *

~ Flashback ~

It was hot, burning and bitter – both from the taste of the smoked weed and also from the liquid involuntarily passed through his lips.  Frodo tried to open his eyes and refocused his sight when it dawned on him that he had been crawling miserably on the floor, just out of his head-splitting faint.  He had also retched heavily, from the look of the scattered liquid on the floor, when he was still unconscious.

Then there were hands all over his body.  No – they had been there even before Frodo regained his consciousness.  Hands taking off his shirt – an easy thing to do as Hull already unbuttoned it.  Hands removing the braces of Frodo's breeches which caused them to slide down.  And Frodo jerked frantically.  In blind panic he reached down to keep hold of his trousers.  Surprised at the hobbit's sudden wakefulness, the men lost their grips for a brief moment but it was enough for Frodo to scramble backward, pushing with the heels of his feet trying desperately to sit and then stand up.

Frodo's eyes gleamed wildly at the three men squatting in front of him as they crept forward with predatory grins in their ugly faces.  Frodo shrieked when two of the men successfully grabbed his feet, locking their hands tightly around Frodo's ankles and thus ruining the hobbit's chance to get up.

Still grasping securely at the waist of his breeches in his fists, Frodo could not avoid being slammed hard on his back when the men pulled at his legs harshly.  Frodo's head hit the wooden board with a sickening thud, making the hobbit let out a choked cry as nausea threatened him once more.  Frodo shut his eyes as he was seeing stars.  His hands went limp at his sides, not bothering to take hold of the breeches anymore.  His breaths went short.

***

~ Present time ~

Merry's shout was still ringing in his ears.

"Frodo!  What have they done to you??"

 And Gandalf struggled to wrench free.  He still could not see what Merry had seen, being hindered by men standing in front of him, at Merry's back.  Merry's voice had sounded like a mixture of rage and – deep anguish.  Gandalf found Merry's display of sincere emotion amazing, knowing what kind of state Merry was in; knowing that – right now – Frodo was nothing more than a shield for Merry, a warranty, to his devilish plans.

Gandalf twisted his body from side to side, planted his feet and then kicked his captors, anything he could think of to set himself free.  But the Isengarders were unbelievably strong.  Gandalf cursed out loud.  Too bad his staff had been taken from him.

But his wish – to see Frodo's state of being – was granted without Gandalf having to do a thing.  Merry dashed forward, still crying low and high, to the bed.  And the men followed him, too, which Gandalf assumed, was to give any assistance their little master might need.  Gandalf cringed as he pondered how Merry acted exactly like a little king—a little king who enjoyed his position very much, who fully realized the consequences that came from it, and thus, would do anything to fulfill his wants and his needs, in any way if possible.

But the wizard cringed even more when he witnessed the sight before his old, grey eyes.

*   *   *

~ Flashback ~

Frodo sucked in his breath and unclenched his eyes at once as he sensed hands clawing and tightening around his arms and wrists, pulling him up to a standing position.  Another pair of hands were close on his breeches and cruelly tugged them down, eliciting a frustrated yet angry yelp from Frodo.  The men ignored him.  Instead, they lifted him a bit and shook him so that the trousers slipped from Frodo's ankles and fell to the floor.

Feeling exposed as he was now only clad in his undergarments, Frodo struggled desperately.  But it was useless. The stronger men half dragged, half hoisted him to the foot of the bed.  Frodo felt strangely relieved despite himself.  At least these loathsome ruffians did not throw him on the bed where they could ---

Frodo snatched himself out of the horrifying images that played in his mind.  He was still in a grave danger and had no clue whatsoever what these men had been planning to do to him.  And who said that he had been safe from 'that' action?

The men put Frodo down and leaned him against the bedpost.  The hobbit scarcely had time to consider what might happen next when both his arms were brutally jerked backward.   A coil of rope was fastened around his wrists, cruelly biting into his skin.  Frodo's fair face blanched and he renewed his struggle.

"What are you doing?"  His loud scream was intensified by his fear and despair.  Frodo stretched and strained against his bonds, but the rope was tautly bound.  Frodo only added to his own suffering by rubbing his soft skin against the rough cords.

Too late Frodo realized that he could have still used his legs to kick.  He did not get the chance.  Then men grabbed Frodo's hairy ankles and secured them with another length of rope, a thicker one.  And although he was still standing flat on his feet, Frodo soon felt his legs and feet fall asleep as the lash cut his circulation.

Frodo craned his neck to look down at his feet and tried desperately to move them.  A hand roughly took his chin and yanked it up.

"Stand still!  Or I'll crash your dear bones down there!"  It was Slater.  His threat was answered wordlessly by Frodo's fiery eyes.  "Oh, still full of spirit, are we?"  laughed the man.

"You will regret having done this!" said Frodo through clenched teeth.  "Merry won't ---"

"Ah!" Slater flung Frodo's chin sideways and waved his hand mockingly.  "Merry?  Your little guardian?  Hah!  Just because he holds the Ring he thinks he has us under his control?"  A strange feeling crept in Frodo at the mention of the Ring but he quickly drove it away.  Merry would be enraged if he found out that Frodo still desired Merry's precious possession.

"Such a miserable fool," Slater went on.  "What can he do to stop all of us?  I can easily take it away from him and his world will turn upside down!"

Easier said than done.  Slater could carry on bluffing about what he could and would do to Merry, but he knew himself it would need a great effort to do what he wanted.  Deep down Slater realized there was no small discomfort when Merry was around.  Fear?  Most likely.

"But you are different."  Slater moved closer to Frodo, stooping until his face was just an inch apart from the hobbit.  Frodo frowned and flinched.  Slater reminded him of Hull with his knife, and how the man had licked Frodo's cheek.  Frodo remembered vividly the stinking smell of the man's mouth.  And Slater was no better than Hull.  "I like you.  No, WE like you.  It's true that we want the Ring.  But we want you, too.  I can see that you are such a valuable thing for the wizard and maybe even for the elves.  I can't say why – for now.  Bit I believe my master, Saruman, can." 

Slater stared deeply at Frodo, making the dazed hobbit unable to breathe.  Slater was rambling, Frodo was sure of that.  Why, even Frodo had not realized at that time that the fate of the entire Middle-earth would be cast upon his frail shoulders.

But apart of his obvious reservations about the man, Frodo started to tremble at the sound of Saruman's name.  No!  It could not be!  Frodo could not, did not want to, meet the wrathful man again!  Frodo shook his head in despair.   The fire in his eyes was utterly extinguished, replaced now by horror, and he could not utter a single word.

Frodo never thought that these men – and orcs out there – were allied to Saruman.  Or rather, were under Saruman's power.  And they had the intention to take Frodo with them.  Slater laughed at the sight of Frodo's frustrated face.

"Why, little one?  Do not fear.  That's why we're here to do something to you that will make you become one of us."

Frodo's head shook even harder and so did his almost naked body.  "No, no!" he sputtered.  "Not, smoking that pipe again, please."  Frodo was terrified as he recalled the hammering headache that followed afterwards.  Slater was mesmerized, half by the hobbit's plea and half by Frodo's breathtakingly beautiful, eyes, now filled with tears.

"Why, no, Frodo," assured Slater.  "It's going to be something that will mark you as one of us!  When we are done, anyone in Middle-earth will be able to see that you belong to us!  You have to admit that special connection, Frodo, for we've already smoked together in the name of our newly-established fellowship."

Frodo could not believe what he was hearing.  Never in his life would he want to be part of this disgusting bunch!

But the man had delivered something that sounded like a riddle to Frodo's ears.  Not smoking?  Then what?

Frodo's swilling thoughts were distracted by the sight of someone kneeling down on his left side.  The man was busily removing a  series of objects, some of which were strange and unfamiliar to Frodo.  There was a kind of handle with a sharp object tied on one of its ends, a small hammer, a pouch, and a bowl.  Oh, there was more than one handle!  Frodo's eyes widened and he shrank back – at least that was he thought he was doing.

"What are those things?"  Frodo whispered, shaking hard.  "What are you going to do to me?" 

 Slater sneered at him cruelly.

"First, I'd like to show you something, Frodo, my dear."

TBC

_Please place your vote!_

_Readers, as I'm getting close to the end of this story, (seriously! :)) I'd really like to see how many of you think positively of a sequel.  Please answer this:_

_What do you think of a sequel?_

_a. Such a waste of time!_

_b. That would be great!_

_Okay!  You just click on the review button and give me your **a** or **b**!_

_Iorhael_


	60. Chapter 60 You Shall Love Me and Despai...

LOTR Sparkling Pippin: Oh, I'm so flattered!  I don't know if I can do the same if I were you.  But Emma's story is indeed excellent, and although she said that I have inspired her, it's from her that I really learn to write.  I hope you will find the sequel worth reading, too, later.

Oddwen: I'm so glad to find you still follow this one!

aelfgifu: Ah, you have seen what happened next to Frodo that our readers here have not!  LOL.  Hope I can start the sequel soon enough.

Blue Jedi Hobbit: You can write a poem, I see!  :)  Thanks for the vote, hon.

MeiMeiru: I'm amazed to see you can manage to avoid using the letter 'a'!  How come?!

Caige: And thanks for your vote!

Krista: Sorry for the lateness.  I just feel that I have to finish this story so I took my time in writing it.  LOL.

endymion: Thanks for your suggestion about the psychological things.  I do plan to touch both physical and psy sides.  And I think I will need your help!

MBradford: Yes, yes.  That subject of regret and redemption will be intriguing.

heartofahobbit: Thanks.  I need every support I get.

Chloe Amethyst: Hey, I'm sure I received an email alerting me for your review but how come that it didn't show up?  BTW, your review made me rethink and definitely the one that made me write what I wrote for the last chapter.  Thanks for the wonderful and insightful suggestions.  I think I will need more of something like that.  

Chapter 60 – You Shall Love Me and Despair- Part One

Warning: AU, violence, angst

Merry hurried toward Frodo, both being little figures among those big people.  Merry was heedless of them, as another horrible sight was in his eyes.  Tears streamed down his cheeks unstoppably as he caught the sight of the bound, half-naked, and barely conscious Frodo.

"Frodo, beloved," Merry wailed, swallowing hard and covering Frodo's body with his own, making the other one stir and weakly flutter his wearied eyes open.  Recognizing who was hugging him, Frodo's mouth cracked into a sad smile.

"Merry," he whispered faintly.  "Help me."

Merry let go of Frodo, clutched at his shoulders, and stepped back to inspect his older cousin's condition.  He was painfully made aware of the dark bruises on the face and swollen eyes from too much crying.  Merry's eyes wandered down and gradually his breath was caught.  There were strange marks here and there in the form of small, white palms--one on the right upper chest, another on the hip on the right, and the other on the outer side of the left thigh.  Streaks of dried scarlet blood left bitter evidence of the places where blood had flowed freely down the wounds.

Merry's probing fingers to one on the chest wiped Frodo's smile completely off of his face, making him flinch and batten down his eyes in agony.

"What is this?" demanded Merry in a subdued voice.

"What is that?"  Frodo asked in panic as Slater tore his own shirt open.  The hobbit's eyes went wide at the sight of a hand mark at the size of a man's hand painted on Slater's chest.  The man smirked, his eyes drifting down toward his midsection.  He fingered the mark slowly, looking as if he were enthralled by it. 

"This?"  Slater words sounded as strange as his acts.  "This is what I wanted to show you, Frodo.  This is what I'm proud of.  This is what shows who really I am.  Can you imagine?"  Slater's eyes flickered back at Frodo, making him gasp in surprise.  Those eyes – they showed pure fidelity upon something – or someone, and determination to convert others to the way they had taken.  "He chose ME," Salter continued.  "Among others, he had chosen me to be his follower and leader for the rest."

Frodo's gaze stuck at Slater's, seemingly not able to falter.  Frodo shuddered.  If the person the man meant was Saruman, he had to escape him!  But how?  Frodo tugged at the ropes wounded tightly around his wrists and ankles.  He could not escape the bonds.  He could not escape even the man's gaze! Then Frodo's suspicion was convinced. "And Saruman has chosen YOU too."  Frodo recoiled as Slater pointed a forefinger at his face.  Frodo paled. 

_"But why?"  Frodo's voice shook.  "I thought he only wanted…" The fact that he did not have the Ring anymore pained Frodo.  He could not finish his sentence._

_"Oh, that's none of our business.  He ordered us to bring you to him and bring you will we do.  I only remember his words about you bearing something in the end.  That it has been your doom."_

_Frodo stared at Slater blankly.  That sounded like a riddle.  He sighed.  Whatever this man was saying was totally beyond his comprehension.  Slater had to be speaking of Merry.  Not him._

_ "So," Slater turned his attention from his mark to Frodo.  "So I thought it would be better to name you as one of us beforehand.  That way you can't disprove being our ally."_

_"NO!"  This could not be happening!  Frodo could not think of anything worse than becoming a part of an enemy._

_"No!  You cannot make me!"  He strained at his bonds again, not caring anymore if that would cause the ropes to cut deep into his skin, or if that would break his arms.  Frodo jerked and thrashed wildly.  Even his numb ankles seemed to be alive again._

_"No, no!"  Frodo almost jumped in place.  "Merry!"_

_"Silence!"  Enraged at Frodo's sudden feral behavior, Slater sent a mighty backhand across the hobbit's much smaller face.  Frodo yelped as his head was thrown sideways.  An agonizing pain soon followed and Frodo wept without realizing it._

_"Quiet," hissed Slater.  "You should be happy we want you to be our company.  You are going to be under our protection as long as you live.  Nobody will dare to lay a finger on you."_

_"Don't," sobbed Frodo.  Under Saruman's protection and becoming a traitor for his own kin?  The memory of when he was Saruman's captive came to him again.  "Please.  I will never be a threat to you.  Let me go."_

_Slater took a handful of Frodo's hair and yanked it backward.  Frodo gaped at him in terror._

_"Hull, Fred.  Do it now!"_

_With his head jerked to the back, Frodo could hardly see what the two men were doing.  He just knew they were approaching him.  Frodo struggled to release himself from Slater's grip but to no avail._

_"Ssh.  You will be better off if you don't see."_

_"Stop it," pleaded Frodo.  "I will prove to be useless for you."_

_But Slater did not listen, too occupied with watching his two men.  Frodo was about to say something else when sharp pains suddenly stung him from his chest and his hip.  Frodo was too startled to scream as he felt spikes pricking into him.  But those spikes did not stop there.  Again and again they cut into his skin and gradually the pains became unbearable.  Frodo finally broke into cry, sounding like a wounded animal._

_A slap quieted him – but just for a while.  The pain was too much.  Frodo squirmed and kept shrieking in agony until Slater eventually decided to clamp a hand over Frodo's mouth to muffle the screams.  Yet he was forced to let go of Frodo's hair as his position now became awkward.  Frodo took the chance to glimpse down and he almost choked at what he saw.  Those men had carved his skin!  With the thorn at the end of their handle, Hull and Fred were creating puncture marks on Frodo's body.  Frodo's face blanched and nausea came over him as he watched blood plodding down the scars.  He turned his eyes back to Slater, shaking his head in despair and letting out a stifled moan.  Frodo was a pathetic sight but Slater ignored him.  And for the time being, the miserable hobbit's stiffened movements every now and then and the streams of his tears were the only sign of how painful the whole process was._

_Finally Hull and Fred backed off from Frodo, wiping out the blood from the marks, revealing two small signs of hands.  They – and Slater – smirked in contentment.  Slater unclasped his hand from Frodo's face, leaving the hobbit to gasp and draw in as much air that had been refused him.  What now?_

_Hull and Fred withdrew but returned again with a pouch.  Hull poured the contents of it first before handing it in to Fred.  Frodo frowned.  It looked powdery.  What was that?_

_The throbbing sensation from the carved wounds had yet to diminish when all of a sudden both men rubbed the ashes into them.  Frodo sucked in the air in one sharp puff as the contact between the ashes and the open gash sent a terrible twinge that then spread all over his body.  Frodo could no longer hold himself back and in the end and a heart-wrenching scream echoed throughout the room, or perhaps throughout Rivendell._

_Frodo cared for nothing else but his misery.  Not for Slater's angered slaps that rained down his face later on in a failed attempt to shut him up, not for the man's order to bestow another mark – this time somewhere on Frodo's leg.  He was snapped back to reality only when the entire painful process resumed.  Again, Frodo howled and cried and wept in unimaginable anguish, leaving him senseless with pain._

Gandalf felt the world around him spinning.  He clenched his damp hands and wet eyes shut tightly.  The wizard froze in the clutches of two big brutes, knees weakening as Frodo haltingly and chokingly recounted the ordeal he had to experience in the hands of the savage men.  The memory of Frodo's small voice greeting him merrily, telling him stories the loving hobbit had just finished reading, or sing jolly songs during their short trip across Hobbiton on his simple horse cart was still clear in the grey pilgrim's mind.

But none of those things could be recognized this time.  Frodo's voice was still small but it was now full of suffering, and often times hindered by unleashed sobs and tears.  Gandalf was close to tears himself.

"Merry…"  The wizard started at his own almost pleading tone.

"Merry…"  But he started more when Frodo raised his voice at exactly the same time, hardly raising the voice, though, with all the quivers coming out of the hobbit's trembling lips.

"Yes, Frodo, my love," rustled Merry, snatched back from his reverie.

"I'm cold, Merry.  Can… would you untie me?  Please?"  Frodo's begging eyes sought Merry's and they drowned in bewilderment seeing Merry shook his head, slowly.

"Merry?"

Instead of answering, Merry took Frodo's face in both his hands and fixed his gaze at the hapless hobbit.

"I know what they were doing.  I told them to do it."  Merry's voice was as crisp as the morning's air.  But Frodo was shattered.

"No," he whispered.  "No, you didn't."

Merry cast Frodo loose and walked back and forth in front of the trussed up, battered form of Frodo, neither answering nor glancing at the hobbit.  Frodo shifted restlessly against the ropes and the pole.  Stinging pain from the wounds that had started to swell effectively stopped him from moving.

"Merry," Frodo gagged from the bile suddenly closing in his throat.  "You did _not_ know anything about this.  This was alltheir plan.  They told me…  They told me…  No!  You could not know anything about any of this!"  A sudden dread filled Frodo's mind.  What if…  What if…

But the cruel hobbit did not say a word.  Merry kept on moving, his fingers running absentmindedly to his breast pocket, caressing the Ring.

Frodo was trying to control his suddenly ragged breath.

"Merry," Frodo wheezed.  "You are going to punish those men, are you not?"

Silence.  Only the sounds of Merry's bare feet sweeping across the tiled floor that were heard.  Even Gandalf felt his breath catch.  What was Merry up to?

After a few moments not getting answers for his questions, Frodo threw his head backward, eyes staring unseeingly to the ceiling, as if in delirium.  But he was not despairing.  Not at all.  Never before did he feel as sanguine as he did now.  One could even see him smile.

Then those smiling lips parted open, revealing line after line of sentences spoken in such a soft voice, almost like a song.

"I know you did not know any of the men's ideas," said Frodo dreamily.  "I know you just pretend to know so as not to put our lives in danger.  I know you will guard me always, to be by my side…"

But the mellifluous voice of Frodo was outrageously lacerated by a powerful blow across his face, splitting the lips that half a second earlier were still sending serene, hopeful words-words that seemed to mesmerize every single being in the room.

Aghast, appalled, flabbergasted, Frodo stared ghastly at Merry.  Salty, coppery tang of blood clogged suddenly in his mouth, one of the many other reasons that rendered him suddenly speechless..

Frodo could only whimper.

Merry's slap – the sudden change of Merry's demeanor toward him almost drove Frodo to the edge of his sanity.  He gazed up – a vain act as the next thing Merry did was grab Frodo's hair and jerk it back.  Whether he wanted it or not, Frodo _had_ to gaze up, had to sink into the demonic stare of his possessed young cousin.

"Oh, Merry," pulled Frodo, tears clinging at his lashes.  "Forgive me…"

"How dare you!  How dare you talking about being by someone's side…" snapped Merry in great wrath, leaving Frodo wondering what this was about.  "…when you so readily fled to their side!"

For the second time in just several minutes Frodo was thunderstruck.  _Fled to their side?_  Merry got impatient at the questioning look Frodo wore.

"Oh, don't pretend to be so naïve, dear cousin!" shot Merry.  "Look at this and this and this!"  Frodo sucked in his breath sharply as Merry not only pointed at the marks but also scraped at them roughly.  "Are they not the most obvious signs that show that you are one of them?!"

Frodo quivered against Merry's fast grip at his curls.  That was exactly what Slater had told him!  Frodo trembled hard as he found out how true the man was, about the marks being the easiest thing to spot.  And Frodo cringed to think that he would bear them all through his life.

"And you like that, don't you, Frodo, being one of them?"

Frodo's eyes widened in disbelief.  How could Merry say something like that?  Did he not hear Frodo's story?  Frodo tried his best to shake his head.

"But how can you say you don't like it while you let them do this for you?"  accused Merry mercilessly.

"I did not let them!  Aah!"  Frodo protested but the tightened grasp of Merry's fist subdued him.  "Merry, please!  They inflicted this on me without my consent!"

Merry backed off.

"But I don't understand, Frodo.  One mark is understandable for a forced situation.  This is three.  Either you didn't fight hard enough or deep in your heart you like being one of them."

Frodo was speechless.  How else could he convince Merry how he hated the men and their action toward him, and how helpless his situation had been?  There were three of them.  And Frodo was tied up at the wrists and ankles.  No matter how hard he thrashed about, there was no way he could have gotten himself out of his bonds.  And those ruffians were too determined to do what they planned to do to listen to Frodo's pleas to stop.

"So, Frodo, which one is the real reason?" asked Merry, standing too close to Frodo to his liking, grabbing the tied hobbit's shoulders once more.  Frodo averted his gaze in discomfort.  He could not answer the question.  He did not _want_ to answer the question, for neither of the answers was true.

A moment passed in silence with Merry locking his stare at his cousin and Frodo getting more and more uneasy under the scrutiny of the many pairs of eyes.  The three Isengarders that had caused Frodo's misery were standing and watching the entire scenes from a corner.  Smugness was all over their faces.

"I thought you were my friend, Frodo," Merry broke in, his voice lucid.

Frodo snapped to face Merry again.

"I am, Merry, I am!  You are the only friend I've got!"  whined Frodo desperately.  This time it was Merry who turned his face away.  His voice was soft with pure sorrow when he spoke again.

"But you've betrayed me, Frodo, by accepting those men's offer to have you with them."

Frodo's mind swam in confusion.  Offer?  He remembered again how he was grabbed, stripped, secured tightly, and finally marked.  That could hardly be called an offer!

"Come on.  Admit it, Frodo.  You were flattered finding out they made you one of them.  Am I not right?"  chased Merry, still with his pretentious sorrow.  "Imagine this.  Nobody cares for you.  The people you thought would concern at you have left you behind.  Intentionally.  Your parents, your uncle, your manservant, Sam.  Even this evil-minded wizard."  Merry waved at Gandalf's direction, making the old man jerk in surprise and starting to open to his mouth to cry out his protest.  But before he could say anything, a cracking blow slammed onto his skull, sending him to oblivion.  Frodo was about to turn to see what was happening around him when Merry's fingers seized his chin, pulling it and forcing him to look at Merry in the eye.

"Then all of a sudden, a group of people, unknown to you, offered you a sanctuary.  A protection and camaraderie that you long to have.  Is that not great?  A group of people suddenly showed their affection to you.  You don't have to do anything; they deemed you their fellow.  You just have to carry a mark, which hardly a cost at all."

Frodo was hardly able to swallow Merry's words.  What was it about the things he said about Frodo's parents and all?  They did not love him, did they?  They did leave Frodo behind, abandoning him.  Save for Sam, lamented Frodo silently.  That loyal gardener of his was killed.  In the hands of a ranger.

Yes.  He was alone.  Frodo was alone.  He had only Merry in his lonely life.  Yet Frodo knew he would treasure this, never wanting to waste it.  And he was content enough.  _Is that true?_  A small voice was asking Frodo from inside, tempting him.  Did he not want to be loved by others?  To be cared for by any others besides Merry?

_No!_  denied another voice in Frodo.  Merry was much more than enough.  Frodo could _not_ ask for more.

But it is true, is it not, that you are flattered to know that there are still others who want you, to be with you, to be your friends?  Even if for that you have be branded like a cattle.  Like a possession.

Frodo shut his eyes, heedless of Merry's clutch at his chin.  He could not deny the voice anymore.  He did love Merry.  Very much.  But the chance of having others as his protectors tempted him so.  Frodo felt almost embarrassed at the thought.

Now, whatever happened to Frodo's previous disgust at being one with his enemy?

Hiding a smile behind his wearied look, Merry knew he had hit his mark.  He could almost see and hear Frodo's inner battle in his troubled mind.  Frodo was going to feel guilty and more confused than ever.

"See?"  purred Merry.  "You were not angry at them.  You just thought you hated them but you didn't."

Frodo slowly fluttered his eyes open, now bathed in guilt.  

"I – I don't know, Merry," he admitted weakly.  "I _was_ angry at them when they did this to me."

Merry let Frodo go with such an abruptness and moved back, his hands on his waist.

"Now don't you try to confuse me, Frodo Baggins!  You were _not_ angry.  That is certain.  You know that."

The stinging wounds contracted again as Frodo leaned back, overwhelmed by his exhaustion.

"Yes," he whispered.  "I guess I know it now, Merry, after what you've told me."

"Oh, no.  No thanks to me," replied Merry fast.  "All I did was show you what you already knew. You knew it from the very beginning."

_Maybe, maybe_, thought Frodo miserably.  And he realized how bad this could be for him.  Merry – Meriadoc Brandybuck – was supposed to be his only sentinel and friend.  How would he feel knowing that Frodo had deceived him?

Panic started to wash over him.  Frodo observed the small yet powerful figure that was now turning his back on him.  Frodo tried to reach back at Merry in despair.

"Merry, Merry!" called Frodo, his voice sounding so small and far he was not certain Merry could hear him.  "Are you mad at me?  Are you disappointed?"

Merry turned around, stepped closer to Frodo, and hugged him!  Frodo gasped, by the surprise, his eyes widening as Merry's breath felt warm on his neck.

"Mad?  Disappointed?" murmured Merry, closing his eyes.  "There are no such things.  The truth is, Frodo, that I am very sad."

Frodo frowned.

"Sad, Merry?"

"Yes," hissed his cousin.  "I care for you.  You know that.  I've done everything for you.  I've stayed with you when nobody would.  I accepted you as you are no matter how bad you behaved.  I saved you from the ruffians back there in the woods.  I snatched you out of the grip of death when your cousin Pippin tried to drown you in the river.  I kept you from starvation."  Merry tightened his hold on Frodo.  "Have you forgotten all of that, Frodo?"

Deep in the labyrinth of his hazy mind, Frodo could see the truth of all those statements.  In fact, he could tell exactly where in the tangled creases of his squelchy brain the memories of them were kept neatly.  Frodo remembered well what Merry had _kindly_ done for him.  Merry had even lovingly bathed him!

Frodo remembered.  He would not forget.  So he shook his head, a little difficult as Merry's form was still clinging onto him.  Merry smiled a little for the shaking head, knowing well that Frodo could not see that.

"You don't forget, Frodo?" asked Merry sadly.

"Oh, Merry!"  cried Frodo.  "How could I?"

"Then you still care for me, too?"  Merry went on.

"Yes, Merry.  Yes!"

Merry pulled back.  His hands strayed to Frodo's cheeks.

"But why did you decide to join the men?"  The query slowly registered in Frodo's mind as the hobbit heeded Merry's eyes.  Frodo vaguely saw Merry's mouth move and form words, though he did not seem to hear them.

Merry shook Frodo a little, bringing him back from his wandering thoughts.

"Frodo?"

Frodo jerked.  His eyes refocused.

"Oh, yes, sorry Merry.  No, no.  I did not decide to join them."

"What?  Frodo, look at those things painted on your body.  And you have told me you were glad they did that to you, claiming you as one of them."

Frodo paled.  He seemed completely lost.  This game of words was madly frustrating.  He took a deep breath but when exhaling, Frodo's throat and nostril trembled as the air went out in sobs.

"I was…  I am not glad with these things, Merry.  I don't want to be with them.  I only want to be with you."

Merry's brow furrowed.

"Gods, you are making me insane, Frodo.  You keep changing what you are saying."  If Frodo could only know, it was Merry who was trying to make him crazy.  But Frodo could only stare at Merry helplessly, unable to say anything anymore.

"Now, I'm asking you one more time.  Do you want to stay with me or go with those men?  They won't stay here forever, Frodo."

Frodo tried hard to process this last question in his muffled brain.  Staying with Merry or the men?  Oh, certainly not with the men!  They would hurt him more!

"No," pleaded Frodo.  "Please don't send me with them, Merry.  I'll stay with you.  I can't part from you."

Merry's palms slid to Frodo's cheek.  His thin lips formed into an loving smile.

"Are you sure of that?" asked Merry.  Frodo nodded weakly.  "But I'm not so sure myself."  Frodo stilled.  "Your Merry needs solid proof, Frodo.  Something that he can plainly see your heart is back to him."

Frodo understood now.  This had to be his punishment for all his last shameful acts.

Merry seemed to know what he was thinking, though.

"But, don't see it as a punishment, Frodo.  This is simply to show me you are in earnest with your words."

Frodo slumped back.  He felt as if he lost all his bones.  His knees weakened.

"What… what should I do, Merry?"

Merry took his time to answer.  It thrilled Frodo so that the hobbit forgot his weariness and waited for the answer with widened yes.  And when Merry did give his reply, Frodo almost sighed in relief, despite what he heard.

"I want you to stay outside, Frodo, up at the balcony.  Just like this."  Merry eyed his half-naked form.  "The night will come soon and I hope its cool air will help you clear your mind.  You will stay there by yourself to think over what you have said and done.  But I'm afraid I will have to leave you in the same position like now.  That will make your thinking go more easily."

Frodo gaped at his younger cousin.  First in dismay, realizing that the night would not only go cool, but cold.  It would freeze!  And he was going to be left tied up like this!

But looking at the sharp glare from Merry, Frodo recoiled and was slowly realizing his place again.  Merry was kind enough not to force him to follow the cruel brutes.  Frodo deserved all this.

So, gazing back at the cousin that owned his life, Frodo heaved and nodded faintly.  Frodo's tears streamed down freely.

"I'm willing to do whatever you say, Merry, if that can prove my love for you."  

TBC


	61. All Shall Love Me and Despair Final Cha...

Beta's note:  Well here it is!  The last chapter!  I remember the evening 8 months ago when I stumbled upon what was then a little gem, and was immediately intrigued at the concept.  I found myself checking each day for updates, and when there was, I would always read the chapter again and again until the next one came out.  Eventually I became friends with Iorhael, and I offered to beta her wonderful story.  And I could not resist drawing pictures for it too, and I have drawn many because so many scenes inspired me!  This story just kept getting better, and Iorhael's writing also showed quantum leaps in improvement as she went on.  And if it were not for Iorhael, I never would have started writing my own fics!  

If you have been a loyal reader for all these 60 chapters, please take the time to give her one more note!  And lurkers, after 60 chapters, for Eru's sake, introduce yourself.  

It has been a long fun ride, and I am sorry it is ending.  (But I heard a sequel in the works!).  Most of all, I am sure I share everyone's sentiments when I thank Iorhael for entertaining us these past eight months!!

HUGS!  

-emma  (There is a picture for this chapter on my author page under "aelfgifu"—A present to Iorhael!)

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**Nasty Hobbitsess**

**"All Shall Love Me and Despair" – Final Chapter, Part 2!**

**By Iorhael**

Chapter 60 part 2

Gandalf was awakened to the sight of Frodo being unbound and almost sinking to the floor before men grabbed him by his arms.  Two men – neither Slater nor Hull – were helping Merry untie Frodo and then dragging him away.  

Gandalf held his breath in anguish.  He had missed most of Merry and Frodo's conversation.  But from the look of it, things did not seem to turn well for Frodo.  Those men were cruelly hauling him over the floor but Frodo showed no slightest sign of resistance.  He let himself be yanked away.  _To where?_  Gandalf wondered.  And for the umpteenth times Gandalf puzzled over all the possible wicked treatments Merry had imposed upon Frodo that had had smashing impact and changed the hobbit entirely.

As Frodo's pitiful sight disappeared behind the door, Gandalf returned his gaze on Merry, who, to his surprise, was staring at him with a wide sneer.  The mask of sorrow he had been wearing vanished without a trace.  Gandalf gazed back challengingly, but deep inside he was crushed.  The Ring had wrecked both hobbits, Merry _and_ Frodo, seemingly beyond repair.

"Frodo is no longer the hobbit you used to know, Gandalf.  He is far from being wise or strong.  Never dream of changing him back to the jolly old Frodo.  _And_ he only looks up to me.  He is mine now and he only listens to what I say."

Gandalf widened his bleary eyes.

"And I can do anything to him or make him do anything for me."  Merry looked at Gandalf sharply.  "Do you want to worsen his already battered body and mind?  Say no to my requests and I will squash Frodo – physically and mentally – into nothingness."

The wizard could not explain even to himself how he hated this commanding, small voice.  He still remembered what Merry asked of him –to  attack another elven realm, Mirkwood.  Gandalf did not seem to have any other choice right now.  He dropped his head in defeat.  He would do whatever he could to put Frodo away from further harm.  He was afraid that it was too late already.

Merry turned his attention to the men, especially to those standing in the corner-- Slater, Hull, and one other.  They still looked smug as if they had done something prideful and right.  Slater was also certain Merry would come to express his gratitude as the men had done something to their – and Merry's – prisoner without the hobbit having to ask first.  Slater was sure Merry would not have enough words to thank their initiative.  The man had seen how Merry twisted Frodo's much weakened state of mind and used it to inflict a threat upon the grey wizard.  Merry could not and would not be able to deny the men's huge favor to him.

Slater lifted his chin and downcast his gaze at Merry proudly.  

Yet, he had no idea what was awaiting him.

"And you!" scorned Merry harshly, not caring if he had to strain his neck to catch the man in the eye.  "What did I tell you about not doing Frodo any harm?!"

_What?_  Slater gasped in shock, definitely caught off his guard.  _What?_  He thought he had heard wrong.

Merry screamed out the same question, face flushed with anger. Slater faltered when answering.

"You said…  You said…"  _What was that?_  It was such a long time ago.  Slater could hardly recall.

"WHAT DID I SAY?"  thundered Merry, surprising everyone in the room and attracting those outside.  Some of these were getting curious and decided to check on the commotion inside.

Slater swallowed hard.

"You said something about… handling Frodo as gently as I – we can."

Merry nodded slightly.

"What else?"

Slater blushed.  The fact that he was under this little creature's domination felt shamefully ridiculous.

"That… that he is a beloved friend of yours and you don't want to hear him scream in pain while he's with us."

"What else?"  Merry sounded as calm as the deepest sea.

Slater jerked forward.

"What else!  There was nothing else you said but those things!"  protested the big man.  Merry strode away staunchly.

"What if you fail to heed that?" asked Merry softly but clearly, confusing the man.

"You didn't say anything about that!"

"I don't believe you," replied the hobbit.  "I told you at that time that I would make you feel whatever Frodo had suffered.  Only ten times worse!"

Slater previously reddened cheeks turned to almost as white as the ashes he rubbed on Frodo's cuts.  He protested again, saying that he had never heard such a thing.  That Merry had never said anything like that.  Merry only smirked.

"And how can you be so sure?  You forgot what I said about Frodo.  How can you be sure I was not telling you other things as well?"

All of a sudden Merry's voice changed.  Louder and more determined.

"And even if I did _not_ say that, who are _you_ to defy me!  I hold the Ring of power and I will do what I want to do!"

More big folks were coming in.  Buzzing noises followed as they were telling each other what had been going on.  And the voices were getting higher and impatient.  Most agreed that Merry should be stopped right here, right now.  Most had brooked Merry's command of them, something they had agreed since they first met the hobbit.  But it seemed to them that Slater was too weak to be their chieftain.  Ah, well, that would be easy to be arranged later, they thought, after…

Merry was still bombarding Slater with sharper, more accusing words.  And the foolish man was bowing in an ever-deeper subservient manner.

A man suddenly grabbed his long, heavy, sword, and marched toward Merry.  The hobbit was completely oblivious to this as he, facing Slater, was still busy snarling and scolding the inadequate leader.  Merry was not aware at what was happening behind his back, at what was coming to him.

A cracking thud was heard as the sword hilt connected to the small bones of Merry's skull.  Noiselessly, the hobbit sagged forward to the floor.

Gandalf merely watched, both in terror and relief.

*    *    *

Frodo gazed wearily at the surroundings around him.  The dimming light of the day made the beauty of Rivendell blur and finally diminish altogether swallowed by the obscurity of the night.  The cool, friendly air that had welcomed him earlier when he first stepped his feet on the land of the elves had been completely replaced by chilling, bone-biting cold.  Frodo shivered slightly as freezing wind blew.  Unconsciously he tried to reach around, to wrap his body in his arms, to send a little warmth to his agonized self.

But he failed.  Frodo failed to do even the smallest movement involving his arms and hands.  He just realized now that he had been bound tightly by the two men to the post in the balcony outside the elf's house.  Frodo's arms had been yanked to the back around the post and his wrists had been secured so steadfastly the ropes were biting into his skin.  A length of cords was coiled several times around Frodo's bare shoulders and the post.  And another piece of ropes was lashed around his shins and ankles, securing them as well as holding Frodo from sliding down.

Frodo sighed.  It was half his decision to let the men drag him out and constrain him like this.  He had to prove his loyalty to Merry.  And it was for Merry, too, that he had agreed to let himself be unclothed, despite the fact that it was going to be extremely cold outside and despite the fact that he knew it.

Another icy wind blew and this time Frodo started to tremble violently against the solid bonds.  He drew his breath shortly as it indeed started to become difficult to breathe.  Frodo felt the air grow thin but its coldness sharply pierced his skin.  The hobbit tried desperately to move, to fight against the chills.  But he just could not.  Frodo lifted his chin up, still breathing raggedly, his lips quivering and beginning to turn bluish.  He wanted to scream as the coldness became unbearable.  Frodo's body shook and shook.

But finally the quivers were fading.  The chin peacefully rested on his chest.  It sank and was stuck there as it had started to freeze as well.  Frodo felt his lids grow heavy and he slowly let them droop.  This battle against the nature was too hard for Frodo while he had barely any strength left.

His breath scarcely hitching, Frodo gradually let himself sink to the darkness thicker than the night, colder than Rivendell's air.  _"Merry,"_ was the last thing to cross his mind.

*   *   *

More swooshing sounds followed.

"Lower yourself!"  Strider turned around and pushed Pippin down onto the ground.  Having no chance to protest, Pippin landed hard on the leaf-covered forest bed.

"Get down!" screamed Strider to Ted and Sam, hoping they were not too hard-headed to question first.  Thank the Valar, the Isengarder and the hobbit were willing to listen to him.  Sam pressed down to the ground as deeply while one of his hands grasped tightly at the pony's leash.  He almost felt sorry for the pony, for its inability to hunker down.  Even if it could, Sam felt that the pony was not likely to do so right now.  It was too restless with the many sounds and screams around.

Those arrows were still darting above their heads for several moments longer, aiming at those standing guard outside Rivendell, the men and orcs.  Strider's mind was busy wondering who was helping them at the moment.  Helping – because that was the fact.  Not one of the arrows were directed at them.  Strider had been dying to jump up to see who they were or to lend any hand.  He was possessed of bow and arrows, too.  Silently he felt ashamed for just keeping quiet and doing nothing.

Then the situation quieted.  There were only one or two arrows flying – and hitting their targets.  In fact, most of the arrows hit the targets.  The ambush was too sudden the men and orcs did not have the opportunity to get prepared.  All they could do in the end was run for a shelter or throw stones.  They were better in a close fight using swords than in a distance like this.

Strider slowly got up, casting away his sword, hands high in the air.

"Reveal yourself!"  he cried out.  "Show yourself if you are friend or foe!"

One by one faces came out from their hiding places, behind the trees, under the bushes.  Not only faces of men, but also of elves, dwarves, and horses.

"Estel!"  A friendly, familiar voice replied his call.  "It is I, Legolas son of Thranduil.  I have come with my older brothers."  Other elves came by his side.

Strider's breath was caught.  Legolas!  A friend from his childhood!  Was it true that he was here?  Was he, Strider, not dreaming?

"Ranger!"  Another voice shouted.  "I am Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, at your service."

"And… uh!"  A grunt followed a hard thump as a round figure tripped over a block of log and landed on the ground.  But the figure quickly rose.  "I am Gimli son of Gloin.  I represent the dwarves that dwell in mines."

One by one they went out and paced toward the gaping-mouthed Strider and his companies that were too stunned to rise from their lying position.  The elves, men, and dwarves were looking in amusement at the comical sight.

"Raise!" commanded Boromir.  "Fear not!  We come to help you."

Ted jumped at once, but Sam and Pippin, looking at each other in doubts and fear, were still in their former position.  They turned their gaze at Strider, who looked odd as he cracked into a wide grin.

"Yes, Sam," nodded Strider.  "I know these people.  You heard them.  But the one here is my best ally."  Strider approached Legolas and warmly hugged the fair-haired elf.

"Who told you about this?" asked the ranger to Legolas.

Sam, amazed by the elf before him, sighed a bit too loud and whispered, "Mr. Frodo, I've met an elf…"

Hearing that, Legolas could not help but smile.  He had already forgotten Strider's question.

"And who might this be?" he asked, kneeling down in front of Sam, who meanwhile had got to his feet.  Sam took one step back in surprise.

"I'm Samwise Gamgee and this is…"  he nodded to Pippin.  "Peregrin Took."

"Call me Pippin," the younger hobbit chimed in.

"And me Sam," added the gardener softly.  Legolas nodded solemnly.

"_Mae govannen_."  Well met, he said.  The two hobbits looked at one another again, incomprehension clouding over their faces.  Legolas smiled understandingly.

"And who is the _Mr. Frodo_ that you mentioned?"

The brightness that had hovered over Sam's face swiftly passed.  Strider jumped in.

"You said you have come to help us.  Then how come that you do not know Frodo?  I assume you come here to save him, am I not correct?  That Elrond had asked you to come for Frodo.  Frodo Baggins?"

Legolas shook and nodded his head almost simultaneously.

"Is he the Ring-bearer?  If he is, then my answer is yes.  Elrond did mention about the trouble over him while he attempted to bring the Ring here.  Elrond found out from Gandalf."  Legolas' face suddenly blanched.  "By the sweet Elbereth!  Tell me he is not taken by the Ringwraiths!"

Boromir and Gimli suddenly tensed.

"Or by Saruman!" exclaimed the Gondorian.  "Elrond also told us about the wicked wizard.  Look at that place," he said, waving his hand toward Rivendell.  "That place is full of orcs and Isengard men."  Boromir caught some changes in the face of the man standing beside Strider.  Ted's pupils narrowed, cheeks crimsoned, and breath grew heavier from the restrained emotion.  Boromir noted this with great interest.

"I think," he spoke carefully, eyes boring into the ranger's.  "We have not been introduced properly, Strider." 

The ranger, feeling Ted stiffen beside him, put a hand protectively upon the shoulder of the former servant of Saruman.  Strider was feeling a bit offended but he calmed himself.

"Excuse me for my absence.  His name is Ted.  And he has been a great help for Frodo."

Boromir's brows creased, distrust flashing across his greenish grey eyes.

"Where does he come from??  Bree?"  he asked scornfully.  And he stood erect all of a sudden, both hands lifting his sword as if ready to slay someone, especially when he learned the answer.

"Isengard."

"Isengard!?  He is a spy!  Move away, ranger.  Let me finish him off at once!"

"No!"  shouted Strider, standing in front of Ted, between the man and Boromir.  "He helped us save Frodo from Saruman.  But…"  Shame engulfed Strider once more.  "Frodo was taken again by the real evil, Meriadoc Brandybuck, the very cousin of Frodo."

The Gondorian looked at Strider as if the ranger was out of his mind.  Boromir snorted disgustedly.

"A hobbit beat up a ranger?  Shame on you!"

Legolas strode forward.

"Keep your tongue or be silent altogether!  He is not a mere ranger.  He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

The name struck Boromir's ears like a thunder in a broad daylight.  The Gondor son was flabbergasted.  But only for a while.

"Then it's even worse!  A son of a king could not protect the Ring-bearer from a halfling!"

Despite his astonishment toward the revelation of the identity of _a son of a king_, Sam could no longer bear the arguments that he felt completely out of place.  Frodo's threatened life was far more critical than the libel against the man formerly known as Strider.

"Stop it!  Stop!" Sam screamed.  "Merry possesses the Ring."  His voice softened.  "He's far more wicked than any of us.  That is why he could defeat a ranger like Strider."

Both men froze at the statements and felt slightly embarrassed, turning away from each other and Sam's gaze.  Strider went cold when Sam spoke again with voice choked with unshed tears.

"And Mr. Frodo is still captive in Merry's clutches.  I don't know about you all but I'm going down now."  Sam sounded so determined and he started sliding down the slope, going through the thick leaves and sharp twigs, dragging the pony with him.  A hand flew to Sam's now lean shoulder, clasping it tightly.  Strider – or rather – Aragorn.

"Don't be hasty, Samwise.  You surely do not forget how dangerous Rivendell is now.  But do not despair."  Aragorn nipped a short, sharp glance at Boromir.  "We have now these fellows to aid us."

Surprise and anger had left Boromir's face and they were now replaced by a meek and regretful expression.

"The ranger is telling you the truth, little one."  It was hard for Boromir to speak in such a gentle voice.  The best he could do was lower it.

For the next moment Boromir made no remarks about Ted, who then joined him, Strider, Legolas, and Gimli planning their next move.  Sam and Pippin tried to squeeze into the circle of men, elves, and dwarves, but were gently pushed away.  Strider tried his best to make both hobbits understand, and even though he was not convincing at all, Sam eventually could accept his reasoning.

"So…" said Sam slowly.  "We're to hide behind the trees and watch you all fight?"  Strider took a deep breath as he caught the hobbit's dissatisfied tone.

"That's right Sam.  We don't want you and Pippinto get hurt.  We need you for Frodo.  You're the closest person to him, and we want him to see a familiar and friendly face when we rescue him.  From what you have said, he will most likely be quite distressed and confused."

Sam knew the ranger was right, so he tapped on Pippin's shoulder, motioning for him to slip away.

*  *  *

The foray went relatively quickly in those half-dimming surroundings.  Still relying upon long-distance attack, the elves rained down their arrows and mercilessly swept away the hoard of orcs that readied themselves in the north of the house compounds.  Graced by their light and feathery steps, those fair creatures faced no difficulty in passing across the Bruinen River and stashing themselves behind the barest of trees, always moving around to avoid getting caught in the same spot longer than necessary.  The elves eventually reached the place where the orcs were gathering around and gave those hideous beings an ambush they would never forget.  They would not – as it was certain death they faced.

While the elves moved to the north, the dwarves had just to cover a short piece of land to find the area where those intruders to this pacific locus of Rivendell detained their beasts, the wargs.  At first Gimli and his kin had only planned to let them loose.  But seeing they had no masters nearby, those animals started to get wild and attack the dwarves, forcing the latter to slay them all.  Gimli and his companions were swimming in the wargs' dark blood by the time they were finished, breathing heavily and roaring in disgust.

As many Isengarders had been slain in the first raid, Aragorn, Boromir, and the Gondorians had to face some more of the men.  Some were on the lookout outside the barn where Elrond and his twin sons were being kept, some were at the front yard of the elf-lord's house, and some others were inside the house.  Boromir's men then went out to search other dwellings in the area.

*   *   *

Strider could only hope that Elrond, his beloved stepfather, would not be enraged at him as the ranger ruefully _swatted_ the elf away when he wanted to embrace him for the rescue.  But this was really not the time for a reunion or a warm pat at the back.  They still had to find Frodo.

… but they had found Merry – lying face down on the floor with scarlet blotches smeared at the back of his head.  He was still unconscious and surrounded by wild, angry men when Aragorn and Boromir came and slaughtered them all.  Gandalf, sighing deeply, met Aragorn in the eye and nodded.

"The evil has been overpowered.  Betrayed by his own men.  Or rather, men he thought he owned."

Aragorn gave Gandalf a brief glance and found that the wizard was fine.

"The men haven't located the Ring, though," added Gandalf.  "They heard of your coming and fled in a panic.  I think it is in one of the hobbit's pockets."

It was Gandalf's words that made Aragorn realize that not once had he thought about the Ring.  All he had in mind was…

"Where is Frodo?"

*      *     *

~ Sam POV ~

I know where he is.  I can feel where he waits for me.  I can feel his existence, no need for people to tell me.  Mr. Frodo.  My beloved master.

I don't care what Strider will say to me for transgressing his orders, going to the houses in Rivendell despite his strong warning.  But I have seen how the dwarves managed to break the barrier of the ugliest beasts I have ever seen.  I failed to convince myself that men indeed rode on them.

Ponds of crimson claret are formed on the ground but I don't care.  I walk along, heedless of Pippin's annoying whine calling me to return.  I have never listened to and believed his words, and I won't start doing it now.

I am still trying to hide myself from Aragorn or Boromir's eyes when passing by the barn where those men are releasing some – elves?  I don't know.  I just keep going, sneaking around to the back of the biggest compound, my feet being almost having their own eyes.  They keep advancing in unfaltering paces as if I knew exactly where I am going.

I try to stay hidden among the bushes, avoiding any open clearings, so I'm still considerably far from the building itself.

But then I see him, mysteriously luminous despite the dusk of the night.  Is it because of the moon?

"I asked you, Frodo."

_"I…  I can't tell you."_

I close my eyes, tears flowing down my face.

Frodo was about to walk again when Pippin stepped into his path.

_"Pip…"_

_"Can't walk away from me or Merry, oh no, you can't.  We've come this far."_

I flutter my lids open.  I can almost see all those scenes repeat before my eyes.  I can even see myself again walk in great suspicion toward my master.

"Mr. Frodo?" 

And the guilt tortured me now.  How could I be stopped only by a waving of a hand that signaled me to stop, even if it was my master's hand?  I am a loyal servant.  I have always been.  But things would have been different had I tried to be a little less compliant…

"It's all right, Sam," said Frodo.  "My cousins wouldn't do anything so stupid as to hinder me from my own journey."

But they are stupid and unbelievably mean.  I didn't realize it then.  And Mr. Frodo has been the one who has to pay for my stupidity with the highest price.

…  he was suddenly slammed backward against a tree.

_"Mr. Frodo!"_

My ears still ring with my own blaring, sudden screech.

_His head hit the tree hard._

_Merry pulled and pushed Frodo against the tree repeatedly – each time harder than the last._

And I ran; I ran to him.  That was completely insane.  I had to save Mr. Frodo.  I had to…

But I was too occupied by the urge to save my master. I didn't realize one of the two cousins had sneaked behind me.  I didn't hear Frodo's warning.  I – BLAM!

I had no clue what had struck my head, for I just knew that I felt so sickened by it and all I could do was close my eyes.  I could hear my master's panicked scream as if it came from a faraway place.

_"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  SAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!"_

For Eru's sake, I haven't seen him since!  I don't know how many days, weeks, or even months we have been apart.  But from the position Frodo is in right now, it feels as if those times never existed, for Frodo looks exactly as I saw him last -- bound to that tree in the woods of the Shire.

Only it's not a tree Frodo is secured to this time.  It's a column in a balcony in the house of the elf.  Thank the Valar, the balcony is not too high for me to climb upon and jump over its surrounding rails.  And that's exactly what I do.

I dash to the balcony, grab the ivy, and leap inside.  I care not if I stumble or trip when I run.  I care only to see and release my Frodo and drown him in my embrace.

Yet I do stumble and this time I _do care as I stumble into something I never imagined I would see.  I stumble over the horrible sight before me._

No wonder Frodo looked as if he were glowing when I first saw him.  It's not from his unnaturally translucent complexion or the rays of moonlight.  My breath is caught.  It's because he looks more dead than alive, like a statue carved from pale stone.  Still, rigid, lifeless.

There is hardly any movement in that bare chest of his, which now marred with patches of dried blood, terrible-looking marks, and fading bruises.  And then the lips are far from their normal, healthy rose.  They are not even blue, but ashen sickly white.  I trace up my gaze to the eyes, hopefully expecting them to stir.  I did not come quietly - he must have heard me!

But they all are just my dreams.  The chest is still immobile, the lips are frozen, and the eyes are deadly shut.

I feel my heart torn apart; wanting to believe that it is indeed Frodo.  I extend my arm and touch the shoulder on the area that is not wrapped by the ropes.  But I pull away as soon as I touch it.  The shoulder feels cold!  Even colder than the snows falling on Hobbiton during the Yule.

I can't help it anymore.  I drop to my knees and raise my arms to snake them around Frodo's bound form.  I hug him tightly.  I don't heed the coldness anymore as it seeps through me through my arms and spreads all over my body.

Frodo is still stiff and cold.  There is not a single sign that can show me his recognition for my touch -  not even a flinch.

But I do not mind the cold.  I only want to touch him, to feel him, to put it into my mind that it is really Frodo that I'm holding  --  the very Mr. Frodo that I have lost and finally found again.  I press my cheek to the chillness of his chest, showering it with my salty tears.  I stay in that position for a couple of moments, forgetting the cramps that start slithering up to my body from my folded knees.  And I'm realizing painfully that Frodo also stays in his own position – chin stuck to his chest, eyes clenched shut, breath so faint.  Fear slowly comes to my mind.  Is he dying?

But at the very moment, I suddenly feel the changing in Frodo's body temperature.  It gets warmer.  And then I hear something like an inhale.  My head snaps, leaving the comfort of Frodo's warming body.  Is that really him? There is a stir in the air and a soft, drifting, and trembling voice is heard.  But what it says, I cannot make out!

The voice was blurred and vague, swallowed completely by the wind as soon as it reaches the air.  But what really counts is that Frodo spoke!

I look up, eyes widening full of expectation, to Frodo's face, his lovely elf-like face.  I wait, so caught between love and dread that if I do not burst, it will be a wonder.

 "Mr. Frodo!  Mr. Frodo!"  I cry, my voice shredded with tears.  "It's your Sam!  I've come!"

For a moment he remains still as death, then the smallest flutter of long lashes.  He is awakening!  My dear Frodo is awakening!  I cannot help but call him forth!

 "Mr. Frodo!  You are safe!  I am here!  Lor!  It took me a stretch to find you again, but Sam has come!  Please awake!  Wake up for your Sam!  Let me see your eyes again so that I know that you live!"

Frodo head very slowly lolled up, and his eyelashes parted.  Instead of a pair of sapphire eyes on a rising and smiling face, I'm met with eyes glassy and dull, and filled with unfathomable pain. It is all I can do to keep from bursting into convulsive sobs.  His lips seem to quiver.  My forehead and brow are slowly creasing.  My jaw drops involuntarily.  He is trying to speak again unless I'm  dreaming or imagining things.  But I'm not!  I stand and wrap my arms around his cold, cold form and cup his icy cheeks in my warm hands.  His eyes lose their distance, and it seems to me they fill with a glint of recognition.  Then softly, ever so softly, he speaks!

 "Samwise," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, and to me it is the most loveliest of earthly sounds.  I burst out crying, wondering if everything sad is going to come untrue.    

 "Yes! Mr. Frodo!  Yes! It is me!" I cry.  "I'm not dead.  I've come for you!"  

He wants to say more, though each word is obviously a torment in his state.  So I move my ear very close to his mouth.  "Yes, Mr. Frodo!  Tell your Sam! Talk to me!  Talk to Sam, _your Sam and tell him what you wish!"_

 "Samwise," he says with great effort.  "Where is my Merry?" 

THE END

Beta's note!  I hoped you loved this tale as much as I did!  

Okay- readers, lurkers, please come out of hiding and tell Iorhael how much you enjoyed her tale!  It's now or never!  60 chapters deserves a BIG thank you!  

--emma

P.S.  Pic on "aelfgifu"' author page (Sam embracing Frodo bound to the post)  And check out Iorhael's author page for Iorhael's other excellent Frodo angst fics, and keep your eyes open for a sequel!


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